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Autumn in Auckland

Mar 20th, 2013
by Sara.
2 comments

Westhaven Summer

It’s officially autumn here in the southern hemisphere. The days continue to be sunny and warm in Auckland. The locals tell us that this is very unusual, that they haven’t had a summer at all for the past several years. I think it might just be the typical Kiwi humbleness showing through again. We were led to believe that the weather here was terrible, blustery and cold every day, sideways rain. Maybe that’s just our newbie ignorance showing through. The season is early.

Truth be told, we’re all sideways when it comes to the seasons and can’t tell which month it is, which season we’re in exactly without consulting the calendar on a daily basis. You take it for granted how innate it is in your own hemisphere. Back home, March means daffodils coming up, Easter chocolates, fresh green leaves on the trees, longer days and more sun. Here, March means back to school, autumn leaves, rain squalls, crisper mornings. It feels like Halloween, and Thanksgiving, and Christmas carols are right around the corner, but they surely aren’t.

Holly bikes Auckland

Easter is coming up and I’m not sure (if I was the decorating kind anyway) if I should be scattering autumn leaves around the boat or Easter flowers. It just feels all wrong. But anyway, this will be our first winter in two years and we’re actually looking forward to turning on a heater again, donning our cozy fleeces and jeans. I’m not sure about the socks though, the “jandals” may have to stay all year.

One thing we do know is that this is the time of year that is buzzing with cruising excitement, wherever you happen to be on your boat. Over on the west coast of North America, boat crews are busy prepping and jumping off for the South Pacific. (It’s impossible for us to believe that it’s been exactly a year since we did the same!) In the Northwest, boats are getting ready for a summer shakedown then a boogie down the coast to Mexico in a few months. Even here in New Zealand it’s already time for the finishing touches of pricey refits to be completed and passages north, whether to Fiji, Tonga, or Tahiti to be charted out for April and May.

We nearly forgot about the joys of daysailing, especially how special it is to see the smile on a first-timer's face as the wind begins to pull us along.

We nearly forgot about the joys of daysailing, especially how cool it is to see the smile on a first-timer’s face as the wind begins to pull us along.

We can feel all this energy, even though we sit in a quiet marina, many of the Kiwi boats having been put away for the winter already in a winding-down season of furious sailing in the Hauraki Gulf. We want to be there too, in that crazy haze of stress-excitement-joy that is the weeks leading up to a big departure. I think we may have become addicted to that feeling, and then the one after where you are on your way to somewhere new and exciting aboard the little ship you lovingly prepared. Now, to be staying still for a while feels just like when you step onto an escalator that is out of order, when you expect your body to be carried upwards but instead there is just that lurching feeling and your legs feel heavy as they plod up the stairs.

We’ve been told that the long Easter weekend is the last hurrah for sailing, kind of like Labor Day weekend in the States. We’ve actually spent most of our weekends off the boat, or at least out and about exploring the city or the nearby beaches and forests. Looks like we might have to go out sailing too. Winter is on her way, so the calendar says.

We spent a weekend "baching it" at wild and gorgeous Piha beach. Less than an hour's drive from the city it feels like a world away. But New Zealand is like that and that's why we love her.

We spent a weekend “baching it” at wild and gorgeous Piha beach on the Tasman sea. Less than an hour’s drive from the city it feels like a world away. But New Zealand is like that and that’s why we love her.

Our little "bach" at Piha beach. The girls are sandy and wet and running for the bathtub soon to be filled with hot water and bubbles. The simple things are the best.

Our little “bach” at Piha beach. The girls are sandy and wet and running for the bathtub soon to be filled with hot water and bubbles. This simple little nearly 100-year-old house felt like a mansion to us.

Yesterday was the first day of autumn. I think change is in the air.

Yesterday was the first day of autumn. I think change is in the air.

Blood Draw

Feb 9th, 2013
by Sara.
4 comments

In the cloudsThe phlebotomist tightened the strap on my right arm. She was getting ready to draw three tubes of my blood, the last step of my immigration medical exam. She double checked my passport which lay on the desk in front of her. Then suddenly she asked me what seemed like a simple question: “Do you like the United States or New Zealand better?”

The young woman’s slight accent hinted that she had learned English at a very young age, her golden skin and dark hair told that her family was from another sunny island in the Pacific. Her belly was huge, she clearly was due to have a child of her own any day now. I found I didn’t know how to answer her so I stalled. “Have you ever been to the United States?”

“No, but I would like to someday,” she replied.

“It’s very big,” I stated randomly and wracked my brain for the answer to her question, when all I could think of was how surprised I was that I suddenly couldn’t answer such a simple thing. “Everyone in New Zealand has health care. That’s really nice,” I finally blurted out.

“Just look at the poster on the wall. I’m going to draw your blood now,” she suggested.

I looked up at the poster. It was a government notice that all children going into school at age 5 were eligible for a free health checkup. It reminded me how thankful I was that since Michael has a two-year work visa that he and the girls are in New Zealand’s public health system now. It’s the first health care we’ve had in nearly two years.

“They actually seem quite similar to me,” I finally said. “They are beautiful countries.”

“I think Americans are so friendly,” she pondered aloud. I wasn’t sure if she was suggesting that New Zealanders were otherwise so I just agreed, “Yes, I think they are too. Kiwis can be a bit more, um, reserved.” I could relate to most Kiwis in this regard though, being one of the shyer Americans myself.

The poster in front of me blurred as she silently filled the tubes of blood. All the reasons I love America came flooding in suddenly but I didn’t think it was the type of answer she was looking for: my Dad, my step-mom, my brothers and their wives, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, Michael’s family, our friends, the girls’ friends they’ve known since they were infants. This was all I could feel that America had that New Zealand didn’t.

The woman withdrew the needle and placed a cotton ball on the wound. “Hold this for a moment,” she said and got a piece of tape ready. “That’s it! You’re done,” she declared. “Best of luck with your visa.”

“Thank you,” I replied, “Good luck with your new baby!” She smiled as I walked out the door back into the lobby, then out the glass sliding doors into the bluish glare of the Aotearoa sunlight.

Life Goes on in Tahiti

Jun 26th, 2012
by Sara.
7 comments

We’ve been in Tahiti for over two weeks now. Tahiti – sounds exotic, huh? Beautiful women everywhere, tattooed muscled men, white sand beaches, showers of flowers. But we arrived in Papeete with a list of things to do and despite our initial decree to just enjoy this island paradise and not focus on the list so much, we’ve found that a city is a city, no matter how exotic and the list always wins.

Leah talks to Grandpa 4000 miles away

We’ve shopped, we’ve washed the boat and many loads of laundry (albeit at $9 a load in the coin washer everything’s been washed in the sink). We’ve visited the giant Carrefour store (a sort of French Walmart) a number of times bringing back cartloads of crackers, pasta, chocolate, cheese, meats, produce and boxed French wine. Our diesel and water tanks are full, engine oil changed, calls made to family, our few bills paid.

It hasn’t all been work here though; we met up in the park with friends to celebrate an 8th birthday, Leah had a slumber party with another 6-year-old girl on an Australian boat we met here, we took the bus to the Tahiti museum for a field trip one afternoon. The girls were delirious with delight when we treated them to Happy Meals at the downtown McDonald’s and I must admit my strawberry shake tasted like mana from heaven.

After sampling the ordinary delights of Tahiti we were all set to sail to Moorea in the Tahiti-Moorea Rendezvous this past weekend. On Friday I got out a mirror to look at a tooth that had been aching a bit for the past few days. Back in Mexico, I had gotten a long-needed crown (my first) on one of my molars. Apparently this crown was temporary as it had developed a lovely hole right in the bottom surface and I could see my tooth right through it.

We got on the bus and headed downtown from our anchorage near Marina Taina. There was an English-speaking dentist right across from the yacht quay so we went straight to his office. Happily he saw me right away. “I am obliged to remove your crown,” the French dentist said. “Ohay,” I replied with my mouth open, palms sweating. He poked and (after numbing the tooth) drilled around for a bit. “You come back Monday for a root canal,” he stated. Oh boy.

Shopping with Holly, Papeete Marche

Later that night we met another American family on a boat and the dad happened to be a dentist. We talked for a while about my options. “Honestly, since your tooth is on the top and in back and it will just end up coming out eventually you might as well have the thing pulled now and get out of Tahiti,” he opined. As thrilling as having a tooth pulled in Tahiti sounded, that was my gut feeling too as the tooth had given me loads of trouble over the years.

We stayed in Tahiti over the weekend and arrived at the dentist’s office Monday morning. I spoke to him of my desire to have the tooth extracted rather than undergo weeks of expensive visits to try to repair the half-rotten thing. He refused. “That is just stupid to pull out a perfectly good tooth! Crazy! I won’t do it!” I paid my bill for the previous visit and left with my head spinning.

Two hours later, with another dentist’s name in hand we are back on the bus to this office which is near the marina. I am in tears the entire ride. My crownless tooth is killing me now. I don’t want to pay $1000 to a complete asshole for a root canal and another crown that will take two weeks to complete. I want to leave Tahiti; we only have three weeks left on our visas and the rest of the Society Islands to see. But right now, I want to get on one of the planes that take off every few minutes from the airport the bus is passing and go back to the places I know. I want to drive my car to my old dentist’s office in Olympia. The girls hug me, say “feel better, mama.” Living so close together we share so many things, emotions included.

We find the new office easily and this dentist sits me down to examine what is left of my tooth. He is much friendlier with a clean, modern office. After taking a quick x-ray we discuss the options. I tell him that I would really prefer to remove the tooth. “That sounds like a fine solution. You can come back tomorrow to have it done,” he smiles warmly. I make my appointment and we walk to the store for ice-cream before heading back to the boat to cook dinner.

Update 27 June: The tooth came out quickly and without a hitch yesterday. The dentist was excellent (Dr. Dairou), I couldn’t feel a thing and three things were confirmed:

1. The more nervous I am about something the less of a big deal it really turns out to be (see: “Rounding Cape Scott”).

2. Keep trusting my gut: the tooth’s roots were all twisted and wonky and the dentist said a root canal would have been impossible.

3. As Leah suspected, the tooth fairy does not bring money for an a adult tooth. I only got a new toothbrush and a packet of dental floss. Boo.

Fulfilled

Jun 11th, 2012
by Sara.
1 comment

"Mom, I sure hope Tahiti has a playground!" Even after all these miles, a playground still excites the Wondertime girls like nothing else.

We just arrived in Papeete, Tahiti today and are tied bow-in to the downtown quay. We’re still rubbing our eyes, can’t believe we are really here. For some reason, arriving here on this iconic island on our own sailing boat makes the whole trip seem kind of shocking, in a good way of course. Tahiti is one place we’ve always wanted to go but never really thought we’d see. And now we are here taking in this lovely exotic city nestled on this mountainous green island, which appeared on the horizon this morning like a mirage.

On our two-night passage across from Fakarava, I made a list of things we needed to get and do during our time in Tahiti. I hear there are supermarkets here. I haven’t stepped inside a market bigger than a 7-11 in three months, since March. Food, we do need. Particularly Nutella. We are plumb out of Nutella. And vegetables of course. I’m craving a green salad the size of a turkey platter.

I tried to remember the other things that passed through our minds in the last few months, things we wanted to get when we had access to stores (and indeed, there do seem to be a lot of shopping opportunities here). I wrote down: “fill water tanks, get diesel, propane?”. I couldn’t remember what else it was that we wanted to buy when we next had the chance. Which was weird, because a hundred or two things have crossed my mind these past few months. An iPad would be nice. But not really something we need. We’re getting by with our quirky old PCs for now. The girls’ Crocs are holding up just fine, no one has lost their hat yet.

I really couldn’t think of anything else we really wanted to buy while we are here. Even the boat seems to have all her needs met at the moment (though there are a thousand things we’d like to do to improve her). The girls have plenty of clothes and toys and books (in fact we need to shed some of the outgrown ones).

It’s amazing, really, how easily our needs have been met, as we’ve traveled on our small boat over this past year. We swing, mostly, on our own anchor and chain, catch sun for power and rainwater for washing. Our wardrobes are simple: swimsuits at the beach, underwear when it’s just us onboard, shorts and t-shirts for when guests come over or we head into town. We always have enough food, although it’s certainly not fancy. Even in Fakarava we came across a box of new crop New Zealand apples for sale. They were the best apples we’ve ever had. Everyday we eat a bit of bread, some protein, something that’s come straight from the earth. A bit of dessert too keeps the crew happy.

Now we find coming to our first city since Cabo San Lucas, where we could likely get anything we wanted that our wants have gradually diminished when we truly have all we need.

A South Seas Birthday Wish

Jun 5th, 2012
by Sara.
10 comments

Around the time I turned 30, Michael and I made a promise to ourselves that we would sail to the South Pacific before we turned 40. It seemed a reasonable deadline, if even having such a deadline is reasonable to start with. But it seems to have worked: a few days ago on Fakarava atoll in the middle of the South Pacific ocean I turned 37.

Over the past five years we scribbled countless timelines and schedules on scraps of paper. We added up numbers, formed numerous plans. In the end, we went with the one that got us to our goal the soonest and here we are. Not only does it feel marvelous, but now we have even more years to plan for the next one.

There were so many moments along the way where it seemed absolutely impossible; at the beginning we had a newborn and a toddler and with the two girls in tow we had to sell a house, buy a(nother) boat, give everything away, get the new boat ready…. I can’t even count the number of times we just wanted to give up, concede that it wasn’t going to happen. Usually though when either Michael or I were ready to throw in the towel one of us would remind the other we are almost there. And we really were.

My birthday wish is for you to start, or keep, making plans for whatever big or small thing you must do before your next big birthday, whether it’s 30 or 40 or 80. And keep at it, you’re almost there. If you wish, we’d love to hear what you are planning in the comments below.

Michael took the girls birthday shopping for me in Nuku Hiva and they picked out, on their own, this writing tiki for me. Instead of war clubs, he holds two pencils in little holes tucked under his arms.

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