2nd Wednesday
Still buzzing from yesterday’s life-changing decision, we set sail northwards up the coast and past Tikitiki Rock, the shark-fin shaped rock marking the entrance to the Bay of Islands. David remembers it well as his first view of land after the Fiji voyage. With moderate winds and rainy skies we wound our way past the Needles, the Cavalli Islands, Flat Island and Stephenson Island.
Then we pulled into Whangaroa Harbour. David Thatcher’s New Zealand’s Northland Coast (fourth Edition) says: “If you have never visited Whangaroa before, prepare to be amazed.”
We were.
I have also never visited a Norwegian fjord, yet from the photos I have seen, this can’t be far off. A narrow entrance opens onto a large meandering inlet, touted to be the safest harbor in New Zealand, with coves and and little bays tempting sailors to explore off to the north and south. Steep tree-covered cliffs fall into the still, deep water.
We pottered into one quiet, aquamarine-watered bay, dropped a hook, and ate our wraps.
Linguistic tidbits:
Hook is David’s slang for anchor
Wraps are David’s favorite lunch. (See Day 16 of the Log).
Hunger sated, we moved around the point to the neighboring cove (both were part of Pekapeka Bay) for closer access to the Lane Cove Hut, entry point to the famed Duke’s Nose tramp.
The patrician proboscis is well-named.
The Duke’s Nose is a rock formation on the Kaiaraara Rocks, and to reach it you climb a relatively short trail complete with root-formed stairs, chorus cicadas, and a final scramble up a cliff face with the aid of an iron railing. Seeing as I have been enjoying my Year of Being Brave, when faced with the railing, I took a deep breath and just went for it, following Tam’s spider monkey ascent. It’s not a long climb and the iron railing feels extremely reassuring. You can use the anchoring bars as foot or handholds (provided you can stretch). And then you are at the top of the world, with forever views across the Whangaroa Harbor, the open ocean, and back toward the Bay of Islands.
I am not a great one for heights, but I loved the scramble, the views, the whole shebang. I just refused to walk too close to the edge.
The sun came out as afternoon settled into evening, and we maneuvered back across the harbour to Owhatanga Bay behind Peach Island, a perfect cone-shaped drop in the center of the inlet. Despite my trepidation of being anchored out in the middle of a large expanse of wind-ruffled water, it settled into a beautifully serene, almost full-moon-lit evening.