2nd Thursday
We woke to a mirror-glass bay: sun shining, fish jumping…about as perfect as you could imagine. But we didn’t stay long. We were headed further north to Doubtless Bay, an enormous stretch of beaches curving from Cape Karikari on the northern end to Mangonui and Hihi on the south.
Mangonui happens to be home to the Mangonui Fish Shop, reputed to be one of the world’s best fish ’n’ chip cafes. They have been serving fresh seafood for over 70 years, caught from their own boats. So after a little nap and a dip in the calm water, Tam and Rory took Joker in to the harbor to forage.They returned with the goods: fresh guard, prawns, thick cut AND skinny fries, paired with the remaining bottle of bubbly (we are still celebrating, after all). We agreed that the fish to batter ratio was ideal, the batter light and crispy, the fish delicious. It was a hard call on the chips, given they had endured a long-ish commute back across the bay, and chips are not a dish best served cold. But unquestionably worth the effort.
Our voyage across the Pacific drummed into me the vast size of this world. Similarly, the expanse of tree-covered hills that line this coast serve as a reminder that despite New Zealand’s reputation as a relatively small country, when moving at the speed of the wind or one’s feet, distances must be measured in days, not hours.
But then something happens to shake that all up…the human connection, aided by technology, shrinks it down once more. Of course, with phones and the internet we are always linked, but it is the random acts of coincidence that truly pull us all together.
We anchored Leona off Hihi Beach, directly below the house belonging to Steve Almaraz, the former sales manager for the brewery, and his Kiwi wife Tony. Steve is one of those people who keep showing up in my life: at a volleyball gym in Ventura where his cousin CJ played on the same club team as Tamsyn, on an airplane as we flew to London, and now on a remote seaside cliff in New Zealand.
David and I joined Steve and Toni and numerous members of his family for a barbecue (given my full tummy, I barely managed a piece of corn on the cob). One of the unique aspects of cruising, is that when you turn up on land for a dinner or a visit, one never knows exactly how one might appear. Flying at speed across the bay in Joker as water sprays up her sides, landing on a beach and hauling her up, there is a good chance that the careful primping attempted while squeezed into the broom-closet sized head is all for naught. Luckily, the Kiwis embrace a casual fashion aesthetic and includes sand on the feet, seawater on the trousers, and rat’s nest hair.
The irrepressible Leonie, Toni’s mum hosted, as she lives in the “tiny house” they have built on the property. As a realtor, she covers the market from Whangaroa up to Karikari, and it is clear she loves this piece of the world, from the brown kiwis who live in her garden to the various gentlemen callers who love to help with the landscaping
Pronunciation tidbit:
Wh- in Maori words is pronounced with a slightly breathy “f” sound.
While we sat on the porch, the tide continued to play with Joker on the beach. By the time we returned, a fair amount of sand and seawater sloshed around inside, but thanks to Steve’s help, we managed to get her afloat again, and gratefully returned to Leona.