Friday 12 December 2008
Friday 12 September 2008
Rising two metres rising
White tops dart through the bay,
Pretty in the sunshine, a creamy flicker on a jewel-like sea,
Harmlesss
But harbouring a more aggressive mood
If you swing the wrong way.
Near gale, the VHF reports.
Easterly. 25 knots rising 35 in the afternoon.
Swell report, one metre rising,
Seas becoming rough.
The boats bob gently in the afternoon sun
Is it coming through? Or missed us?
Usually it comes earlier than they predict
And our emerald bay turns to muddy syrup
With grandiose waves challenging you to creep nearer.
Emergency report: front coming straight over
Gale force winds, 45 knots plus.
No, this one’s a biggy, the lowest low in a decade:
Looking at 65 knots plus, hold on to your hats!
We get a hurricane overhead
and it never even makes the world frame.
Pretty in the sunshine, a creamy flicker on a jewel-like sea,
Harmlesss
But harbouring a more aggressive mood
If you swing the wrong way.
Near gale, the VHF reports.
Easterly. 25 knots rising 35 in the afternoon.
Swell report, one metre rising,
Seas becoming rough.
The boats bob gently in the afternoon sun
Is it coming through? Or missed us?
Usually it comes earlier than they predict
And our emerald bay turns to muddy syrup
With grandiose waves challenging you to creep nearer.
Emergency report: front coming straight over
Gale force winds, 45 knots plus.
No, this one’s a biggy, the lowest low in a decade:
Looking at 65 knots plus, hold on to your hats!
We get a hurricane overhead
and it never even makes the world frame.
Friday 15 August 2008
Red Bike Spinning
Dreamt you and I were cycling in the dark,
it was pitch black, supernaturally black,
no street lights nor building lights,
not even a star.
You were cycling fast, overtaking me
you didn't see the slow moving car in front,
there were no lights.
I saw too late, gave a strangled cry,
too late, a head on collision.
You and bike flew over the car,
together spinning.
Your bike was red,
it was the only colour I could see.
I thought you were must be dead
but I couldn't reach you.
Later (after wading through marsh land
and grappling with giant poisonous cacti)
our paths crossed again.
You were right as rain
while I still felt the trauma.
it was pitch black, supernaturally black,
no street lights nor building lights,
not even a star.
You were cycling fast, overtaking me
you didn't see the slow moving car in front,
there were no lights.
I saw too late, gave a strangled cry,
too late, a head on collision.
You and bike flew over the car,
together spinning.
Your bike was red,
it was the only colour I could see.
I thought you were must be dead
but I couldn't reach you.
Later (after wading through marsh land
and grappling with giant poisonous cacti)
our paths crossed again.
You were right as rain
while I still felt the trauma.
Tuesday 19 February 2008
Monday 18 February 2008
Pete's nieces
Pete's sister Emma and her husband Tim bought their two little girls up to the Bay for the Tall Ships race in January 2008. They came to hang out with us on the boat one evening when we were anchored in Matauwhi Bay. Isla and Alice didn't say one word all evening (Uncle Pete's very scary afterall...) but they liked the ducks.
Wednesday 13 February 2008
Aunty Catalina
I didn't take this photo. Obviously. But here he is, Baby Sebastian. Copywrite the father, in every sense.
Friday 1 February 2008
Whangaroa Race 25th Jan (Waitangi to Whangaroa)
Whangaroa Harbour is a beautiful and massive fjord-like harbour, 35 miles up the coast from the Bay of Islands - a scenic cruise (albeit through bumpy seas) past rocky coastline, long exposed beaches and through the gorgeous Cavalli Islands. We raced up there in six hours and came triumphantly last (well, we were on an old cruiser with only three crew, one of whom didn't have a clue what she was doing tum te tum but she learnt a lot I'm told). On the sail back down I swam in the Cavallis a matter of miles from the spot where a record-breaking Bronzie had been caught the previous day in the mouth of the harbour; I couldn't shift the idea of shark-infested murky waters, so my heart had more of a workout than my body. No good photos as it was a bit rough, but finally I've captured some of the infamous New Zealand mail boxes.
Friday 25 January 2008
Moorings and truck motors
What an unprepossessing title. But that's what my life is about at the moment. Moorings and engines.
First of all, moorings: I am now the proud owner of one quarter of a concrete block. Shortly, when I gather the outstanding $750, I will be on the real estate map, in the form of a four-tonne piece of concrete and a pile of rusty chain lying in the deep mud off the desirable shores of Te Whahapu Bay. This photo here is not the new mooring, but it is one I encountered whilst having a little dander about in my canoe off Paihia beach a couple of weeks ago.
And as for engines, well, the houseboat runs on a 90hp Isuzu diesel engine. This engine has probably done many many thousands of hours in a HGV before it started its retirement years in our boat. Unfortunately, the supposedly reconditioned engine wasn't so much reconditioned as taken apart and put back together again without much thought as to the 'condition' bit. Turns out that a barely functioning piston was put back in and shards of metal have progressively been thrown round the engine. Oh, I don't know - may be it wasn't a piston, perhaps it was a valve...whatever, it didn't look too healthy, even to my glazed-over eye. We're inhabitants of Waitangi right now. About two k 'down the road' from our normal mooring in Paihia, shown here:
First of all, moorings: I am now the proud owner of one quarter of a concrete block. Shortly, when I gather the outstanding $750, I will be on the real estate map, in the form of a four-tonne piece of concrete and a pile of rusty chain lying in the deep mud off the desirable shores of Te Whahapu Bay. This photo here is not the new mooring, but it is one I encountered whilst having a little dander about in my canoe off Paihia beach a couple of weeks ago.
And as for engines, well, the houseboat runs on a 90hp Isuzu diesel engine. This engine has probably done many many thousands of hours in a HGV before it started its retirement years in our boat. Unfortunately, the supposedly reconditioned engine wasn't so much reconditioned as taken apart and put back together again without much thought as to the 'condition' bit. Turns out that a barely functioning piston was put back in and shards of metal have progressively been thrown round the engine. Oh, I don't know - may be it wasn't a piston, perhaps it was a valve...whatever, it didn't look too healthy, even to my glazed-over eye. We're inhabitants of Waitangi right now. About two k 'down the road' from our normal mooring in Paihia, shown here:
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