Marlborough musings and Catalina cravings!

Orca at Havelock Marina

The end of February arrived and with it our long anticipated trip to the Marlborough Sounds area. This would be our second trip to the Sounds, and once again our intention was to take Orca (our wee fizz boat) with us so that we could indulge our passion for fishing. Orca is nothing particularly flash but whenever and wherever we went out in her, we had an absolute ball. We could even overnight on her if we wanted to, which was the ultimate in excitement (yes, I know we're sad people!!).

Hoping for a bite - French Pass

However, it soon became obvious that because of our new focus, we were going to have to rethink the practicalities of taking Orca with us. Towing the boat with the camper van was going to be something of a mission anyway but trailing Orca along whilst we looked at boats was just going to be tedious and time consuming. And we could always resort to our spin rods and surf casters to make sure our fishing opportunities weren't too compromised. So a trip minus Orca was how it was going to be.

Our home away from home!

We loaded up the camper van and headed off. As we travelled north through the South Island, we chatted away about our plans for the next couple of weeks and as we did, it began to dawn on us that by the end of our holiday we could well have made a decision that would quite literally be life-changing. How scary is that?!

Cissy Bay

The Sounds were everything we hoped for and then some. Picturesque bay followed picturesque bay almost to the point of sensory overload...and the fishing wasn't bad either! As we worked our way eastward from Golden Bay towards Nelson we became increasingly excited by the prospect of looking at yachts, so much so that by the time we reached Motueka we grabbed a coffee and then headed off to the marina to see what we could see. We spent quite a bit of time wandering along the various pontoons trying to guess the length of the various yachts we saw. We were itching just to go on board and have a proper look.

We moved on to Nelson, headed for the marina and called into the local ship brokers office. I have to confess that we did make out that we just might be prospective purchasers and asked what yachts we could view that were around the 36 foot mark. He showed us through a few and whilst none really excited me, they certainly started to give me a feel for what it would be like to live aboard. Was I convinced it would work? Was there some wavering going on? Perhaps! From Nelson we headed to Picton and repeated the same process at Waikawa Marina. And that's where it happened! We were taken aboard a Catalina 36 and I was completely blown away by her. 

The fabulous Catalina 36

I wanted to sail away in her right there and then. Why? Well there was no sensible answer to that! It was all about perceptions and feelings. Common sense had totally flown out of the window - or should that have been the port hole?! What perceptions and feelings? Well, aesthetically, she was quite beautiful, with fabulous sleek, clean lines. Below decks, she felt spacious yet homely. I plonked myself down on one of the gloriously soft seats, put my feet up and I just knew that it felt right. It was right at that moment that I knew Howard's dream was destined to become a reality!

  

So, how did THAT happen?

Hay making - McKendry Road

Over the next few weeks as we carried on with our day-to-day tasks, the subject of building a 36 foot yacht made intermittent, but increasingly frequent, appearances. The discussion always seemed to follow the same format. "You know, living on a boat would be an incredible adventure," Howard would suggest. "Just think, if you fancied sailing up to the Bay of Islands or to the Marlborough Sounds, we could just go. No long road trips - just lift the anchor and off we go. Now I've been looking on the Internet and I've seen a really good plan - one that I reckon would be a good, solid boat for us that we could handle easily. Come and have a look at it."

So I'd have a look at the plans, although as I possess the spatial awareness of a block of wood, I wasn't very good at visualising what Howard was showing me. I had to agree that his proposition was beginning to sound incredibly attractive. But someone had to be the practical one so I would respond with, "It's not that simple, you know. I still have to go to work, so we're tied to Dunedin. Just sailing off as the fancy takes us is not going to be all that feasible. And anyway, I have no idea whether I'd be able to cope with living on a boat. And what about the alpacas...and the cats - what would happen to them?" But all the time I could feel my grip on reality and common sense slipping away and being replaced by the uncertainty of an apparently idealistic existence.

Then one day I heard myself saying, "I'll tell you what, when we go up to Marlborough Sounds we'll have a look at some yachts so I can get a feel for a larger boat. If we do that, we can make a proper decision."

I have to confess that I had absolutely no idea what it would be like on a boat of that size. What does 36 feet look like on a yacht? Would it be claustrophobic? Would it be practical? Where would we moor it? Would it be warm in winter? Would we get bored? The unknowns were legion, but I was getting more and more drawn into the dream. And just how did THAT happen? Maybe it was subliminal messages...or maybe, just maybe, I did actually have an unrequited sense of adventure that was starting to surface!

Tasman Bay from Takaka Hill (Ngarua Caves)

How it all began

The perfect lifestyle?

So there we were on our wee farm, with our herd of alpacas and our two cats. Life was sweet. We had an awesome lifestyle and lived in a wonderful place. Everything seemed ordered and settled...or so I thought! On that auspicious day - the one that would see our lives turned upside down - I was sitting drinking a cup of tea and minding my own business. I was busy thinking how far we had come in the eight or so years since we'd arrived in New Zealand from the UK, when out of the blue my husband, Howard (aka Captain) suddenly said, "Do you fancy selling up and living on a boat?" 
I choked on my cup of tea. "What sort of boat?" I spluttered.
"I was thinking I could build us a 36 foot yacht" came the reply.

The calm before the storm

My mind instantly flashed back to the Noelex 22 we used to own and the last time we had gone sailing together. The forecast had been for light winds with the promise of a pleasant and peaceful day on the water. I love the sea, but as a novice and I have to confess somewhat wussy sailor, light winds suited me just fine - I certainly wasn't seeking any adrenaline rushes. For Howard, on the other hand, light airs were a little tame and lacked excitement...but as things turned out he wasn't going to be disappointed for long!

Just as we were coming in around Taiaroa Head the wind threw a real tantrum. Howard perked up as the sailing became more 'interesting' whilst I grew more wary. However, I convinced myself that we'd be home and hosed once we got into the shelter of Otago Harbour. What a poor misguided fool I was! Far from easing, the wind was screaming down the Harbour. Howard yelled above the noise of the wind, "We simply have to get the sails down and come in under motor." I knew that my skills were lacking in both those areas so opted to take down the sails leaving Howard to deal to the outboard. By now, the waves were crashing over the bow of the boat, the rain was falling and it felt as though we were on some sort of roller coaster ride. We were both absolutely soaked but had no time to don waterproofs. I reached up to pull the mainsail down and BANG, I lost my footing as the boat hurtled down a wave. I smacked into the cockpit, my ribs taking the full force of the impact. The pain was incredible. I could see that Howard was fighting to control the boat so I had no time to moan about the pain or feel sorry for myself (OK, so I did find time to feel sorry for myself!). I had to get the sails down and just hang out for reaching the safety - and hopefully the tranquility - of Back Beach at Port Chalmers.

I was jolted back into the present. "So, what do you reckon?" Howard needed an answer. As far as I was concerned his suggestion was a no-brainer so he received a very polite but nontheless definite response - an emphatic, "No thanks!" By way of an explanation, I reminded him about my startling lack of prowess with the Noelex and, in spite of some cajoling on Howard's part telling me that sailing a bigger boat would be so much easier, I remained adamant.

Howard went quiet. I knew he was disappointed but he'd get over it. We already had Orca, our fizz-boat - a Bayliner Capri - which was great for indulging our passion for fishing, so I was certain that this boat building idea was just a passing fad. He was probably bored or going through his midlife crisis a little on the late side. It was bound to pass if I just gave him a little bit of time for common sense to prevail. And anyway, we were due to go on holiday to the Marlborough Sounds in a few weeks. That would definitely sort him out.

Marlborough Sounds - will common sense prevail?