Friday
Its all about the water: on it, in it, under it.
After a moment for David to practice his foiling skills and me to practice my yoga skills, we left our perfect anchorage and headed north toward Cape Brett, the easternmost point of the Bay of Islands. Circumnavigating Urupukapuka in Leona proved the island is as beautiful from water as it is from land. At the risk of repeating myself, it is the richness of the colors that capture you - turquoise and cerulean and emerald - wow, I can’t help sounding clichéd trying to describe this place.
The weather was perfect for our day sail. We were close hauled with 15 knots apparent wind from the northeast and calm seas. Leona averaged about 7 knots, skipping lightly o’er the wavelets with the sun beaming down. The puffball clouds hung so low, I wanted to stretch up and hug one. I felt exhilarated and relaxed all at once: Leona flying in the perfect combination of sun and breeze:
I immediately went up to the bow and fell asleep.
Our destination was Piercy Island, also known by its Maori name, Motukokako or the Hole-in-the-Rock. Tour boat guides love it for the excitement of zooming through the naturally formed tunnel. Conservationists love it for its near pristine ecological condition with no unexpected inhabitants, either Norwegian or any other nationality.
David claimed it resembled a hyena at a watering hole, but I definitely saw an elephant.
We sailed by it and the Cape Brett Lighthouse (keeping sailors safe since 1910) and tacked south again.
Anchored in Oke Bay, a beautiful cove with a fabulously soft white sand beach surrounded by tall cliffs, we ventured in for a snorkel. I was hoping my groovy new iPhone life-jacket would allow me to get some underwater snaps, but the learning curve is steep.
I miss the coral rainbow and masses of tiny color bursts of Polynesian underwater life, but the rocks and weeds here attract a number of larger fish, mostly silver-grey with a variety of stripes. Despite my online searching, I can’t seem to find their names, although I am pretty sure I saw a deflated puffer fish.
And then we saw a long tail stingray, just hanging out on the sandy seafloor. According to my research later, I learned we did everything wrong: we disturbed it, hovered over it, followed it. But it just floated away, leaving us un-stung and happy.
So two potentially poisonous piscine types in one little dip.
The chart books warned that if the winds come from the north, Oke Bay can become an “unpleasant anchorage.” Although we went to sleep with wind from the northeast, at some point they swung the wrong way, and things got a little bumpy. And very wet, as a noisy downfall cleaned Joker and Leona’s decks. It necessitated a midnight scramble to make sure all hatches were closed and towels under cover.
Then a snuggle back under the duvet, listening to the drumming overhead and the the trickle and splat of rainwater coursing off the decks mingling with the trickle and splat of waves below us.