Things I’d never go sailing without

We really didn’t know what we were doing. We Googled and forumed like crazy. We took advice from helpful people and thought really, really hard. But at the end of the day, we still felt ill prepared. Having said that, there’s not a lot we’d do differently if we were going to go on a sailing adventure again.

Here are some things we would definitely take again.

Green Bags. These are breathable plastic bags to store vegetables in and keep in the fridge. I did an experiment before we left: I brought two broccoli; one went in the fridge naked and the other went in in a Green Bag. The Green Bag one lasted three times as long. I get them from Trade Me (just put Green Bags in the search box). They’re imported from USA – NASA International Space Shuttle used to use them. You can wash them and reuse them 8-10 times – at least that’s what the instructions say – but I used them about 20.  Still good. Tip: Make sure there’s no moisture on the vege/fruit when you put them in. Or if there is, wrap a paper towel around it for a day or so.

Charcoal tablets and Alpine tea. When my Mum was dying, all the hospice nurses were obsessed with her bowels. Sailing can also be all about the bowels. For any kind of tummy bug or diarrhoea, we used charcoal tablets (thanks Peter). They absorb any nasties in your bowel (they actually soak up everything so drink plenty of water – I didn’t and got constipated). Lucky I also have a natural remedy for when you are constipated – a cup of herbal Alpine tea. After 3-4 hours you will definitely go – quite violently sometimes, but it absolutely clears you out. I wish the description on the packet had been a bit more honest – I took it when I was working in town once. I had a cup thinking it was an innocent herbal tea and got quite a shock when I walked home to the train station.

Audio books. For those terrifying night shifts when you can’t read or concentrate, listening to audio books is a really nice half-distraction. I only put one ear plug in so I could still listen to the weather and sea scream, waiting for any kind of different noise in. I subscribed to Audible. It’s $15 a month. The books take ages to download (do it before you leave because there’s no way internet in the Pacific can handle it). My favourite Audio Book is The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. It’s not rocket science – plot drive with vivid characters and is a bit of thriller – and best of all, the actors are British.

Hair stuff. I looked about 10 years old but a hair band keeps your hair out of your face without having to use lots of hairclips. I bought some really expensive morocco oil hair moisturiser which I used every other day – just slip a bit through, like gel. It keeps it hydrated and even when I knew it looked like shite, it smelt yummy. Your hairdresser will be very impressed when you get back.

A groovy dress. On the odd occasion when we went to a resort, I’m really glad I had a nice frock to wear. I hate the term ‘grotty yachtie’ and tried hard to not be one. Of course you are one after five day passage without  a shower but there’s no need to look yucky just because you’re at sea. It is of course quite helpful to not look in the mirror though. OMG that first shower when you reach land is so unbelievably amazing.

LED candles. They look fake but give a bit of glamour. We have three in a set of different heights. They alternate different colors and have a remote control. They’re lovely it the cockpit at night. We had three but traded one for fish. And we also put fairy lights up in the cockpit which Dean did reluctantly until he saw how well they lit us up from a distance. If you forget to put your anchor light on, you still light up like a Christmas tree. It was quite a magical moment, rowing out in the dinghy and looking back at our stary night, gorgeous boat. They’re solar powered and hook up to our dodger. It’s also part of my cunning plan to make sure we don’t race our boat in the next Mana Cruising Club winter sailing season – the fairy lights will take too long to take down! Woop, woop.

A box of gorgeous things. Sailing is all about safety and trauma. As soon as I got to a bay I’d open out my box of gorgeous things and lay them out on the saloon table…a plastic lotus flower, a shell from Kapiti, half a coconut shell and a miniature crocheted Christmas pudding that my Mum won in the hospice raffle. This is a bit macabre, but I also have a Dead Box. It’s got funeral programmes, dried flowers, photos, notes and little things that remind me of the person who died. I also have the ashes of my little pussy cat, Willow, in my Dead Box. Dean thinks I’m weird. But being at sea doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. There’s nothing like a good sob after a shit sail.

A shift bag. I had a large waist bag that I put all my shift essentials in (ear plugs, eye mask, clean knickers, alarm clock, gloves, note pad and pen). I attached it to the nav station so that even if it was rough, I could get to it easy. It was right next to the Grab Bag.

Okay, so I’ve asked Dean what he’d never go to sea without – he’ll be practical:

Three navigation tools. Ray Marine charts as our main nav tool, in the cockpit, and Open CPN and iSailor for our laptop and iPad. Dean also connected our chart plotter to the iPad. He blew up our radar two weeks before we left. Our amazing marine insurance people, The Marina Shop, made sure our insurance covered it and it meant we got new charts for the Pacific. Unlike some people, reefs were where they were meant to be.

Solar panels. As many as you can take.

Davits on our arch. Being able to hoist our dinghy up on davits which are attached to our arch: Not only was it easy when we got somewhere, but the dinghy was perfectly safe, still inflated, during passages. We were one of the only boats with an inflatable dingy and we never got into trouble. Dean had Outboard Envy. Ours has 5hp – a lot had 15hp. 10hp was common. Dean was obsessed with ‘getting on the plane’. I don’t see what the fuss is about. We got to places, eventually.

Soda Stream for fizzy drinks. He can’t live without his bourbon and coke. Except I bought sugar-free which he HATED and never forgave me for. Telling him that the amount of sugar that goes in a glass of coke is actually poisonous, and to stop you throwing up they put another poison in, doesn’t put him off.

Iridium Go satellite communications (includes an email address so we could email anywhere, any time, and 150 talking minutes). Apparently they’ll have 3G internet speed too soon. Iridium Go also has a tracking feature that Predict Wind can show on a website. This was great except for when it went a bit haywire and we got an email from Dean’s Mum saying, “you’re on land, you’re on land, what’s wrong?”

AIS. We wouldn’t go anywhere without it. It saved our lives: Once we were headed right for a rock. We had our chart zoomed out to 10nm which meant the rock didn’t show. The rock had an AIS beacon on and came up as an alert. It was a revolting night shift and our headsail had just ripped so we were in no mood to hit a rock. We should of course have scanned a paper chart more thoroughly before we left.  AIS is great for piece of mind for general collision avoidance too. It’s also handy if you want to avoid  someone in a bay, and you can turn it off if you don’t want to be found.

A good horn to announce your arrival in a bay and say a big goodbye when you leave. Oh for safety reasons too.

What are three things you’d never go to sea without?

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And cushions. I can’t buy furniture, art work, books, art deco things – we only have room for cushions. My new cockpit cushions have ducks on them. I love them. Dean doesn’t.

holiday 2

Nothing to do this this post, but my current favourite photo. This is the first time Zena went up on the deck, unprompted. Taken from our trip a couple of weeks ago to D’Urville Island and Pelorous Sound.

 

New Caledonia – feral haircuts & a topsy-turvy culture

‘Pebbles, Pebbles, this is Bobcat, do you copy, over?’
‘&*(%JJ *@))* !+:”>?’
‘Pebbles, this is Bobcat, can you please repeat, over.’

Just as he was answering the VHF call, Dean took a bite from a cracker. It broke in his mouth as he went to speak so he shoved the whole lot in, then answered the call. And other little, funny moments that I know we are going to remember.

New Caledonia is such a mix of stunning white beaches and aqua water, and a topsy-turvy culture. We’ll be catching up with friends of a friend in Noumea who works for the NZ High Commission – I’m looking forward to understanding all this more. We can’t of course read the newspapers because it’s in French. Everything is in French. This is not France. This is New Caledonia.

The landscape has been savaged by 100 years of nickel mining, used for stainless steel and other products. It’s very sad to see. The blood orange ridges of these mountains have been severed and their innards turned out, left grotesque. It’s killing the coral and kids swim in red muck. There are ‘private mining villages’ marked on our chart. How can anyone own a bloody village? It makes my blood boil. Apparently there are a handful of French families who own the mines around the country (and responsible for more than a few environmental disasters). Again, we know nothing.

We were pretty much told not to go down the East Coast (the ‘Forgotten Coast’) of the main island, Grande Terre, because of the destroyed landscape and lack of white sandy beaches (that postcard stuff really does get in the way of other more interesting experiences). Also, we were told that the trade winds tear up the East Coast and it can be hard to head south. All bad advice.

We loved the isolation and realness of the East Coast, even if its upset. But there’s room in adventure for fiercely being yourself, otherwise you end up as one of the not-really-happy people in the postcards.

And we did find a little piece of heaven – a gorgeous inlet just after the entrance to Baie Laugier. No boats, no people; just nature and us. I really needed this kind of space and it was nice for Dean and me to totally relax, just us. I got up at sunrise and took my beanbag to the front of the deck and fell in love again with birdsong and the waking of a day.

We moved further down the coast: At Thio we found a group of women playing Bingo in an outdoor shelter and bought some local umu-style food which we think was pork; then because adventure is so exhausting (really) we stayed two nights at Port Bouquet; then it was on to the mining town of Yate where we found a little shop run by the Chief’s wife. The friendly (white, French, from France) collage Principal showed us where it was and translated for us. I told the Chief’s wife that she smelt like lovely soap and she thought that was hilarious. Now we’re at Isle Quen and looking for walks. We met the caretakers of a private house here yesterday. They were from Malakula, in Vanuatu, and had tears in their eyes when we talked about Cyclone Pam.

I cut my own hair. Oh dear. It’s been six months and I was looking a bit feral, but now I just look stupid. My hairdresser is either going to laugh or go quiet when she sees me in November.  Thank god for hair bands.

Current favourite cocktail:  Chessie Lady – champagne, vodka and cointreau.

Up close with the savaging of this land, on Isle Quen just south of Prony. There's meant to be replanting going on but we never saw it, anywhere.

Up close with the savaging of this land, on Isle Quen just south of Prony. There’s meant to be replanting going on but we never saw it, anywhere.

NC Grand Terre & surrounds-1

Always on look-out.

A little inlet on the right from Baie Laugier, our first stop on the East Coast. It reminded us the Marlborough Sounds.

The little inlet on the left from Baie Laugier, our first stop on the East Coast. It reminded us of the Marlborough Sounds.

NC Grand Terre & surrounds-4

Our sunset walk…there’s Pebbles on her own.

Dean doing something practical. Me doing something not practical.

Dean doing something practical. Me doing something not practical.

Dean wanted to take this home for Laura or Cameron, but decided not to after discussions about shell ghosts and customs clearance.

Dean wanted to take this home for Laura or Cameron, but decided not to after discussions about shell ghosts and customs clearance.

We went up a river to find a town. We found lots of locals who didn't speak English but loved our translator on our mobile phone. I told them we loved them and that they were special. Couldn't find 'where is the supermarket'.

We went up a river to find a town. No town, but met lots of locals who didn’t speak English. They loved our French translator on my mobile phone – I told them, ‘I love you’ and ‘you are special’. The phone ap didn’t have useful things like, ‘where is the supermarket?’ or ‘we are lost, can you help?’ The petrol in the dinghy ran out a few metres from Pebbles.

Isle Kinde, just out from Port Bouquet. Oh wow. We spent the morning here. A group of birds wouldn't let us walk on the Western side - they must of been nesting. This was their home. We snorkelled and lay in the sun, feeling rather perfect.

Isle Kinde, just out from Port Bouquet. Oh wow. We spent the morning here. A group of birds wouldn’t let us walk on the Western side – they must of been nesting. This was their home. We snorkelled and lay in the sun, feeling rather perfect.

Fish count: 2! This tizzard will feed us fr 10 meals, thank you kindly. We were desperate and protein deficient. Dean resorted to buying disgusting looking frozen sausages and meat pattie things from a little shop. Probably dog.

Fish count: 2! This tizzard will feed us for 10 meals, thank you kindly. We were desperate and protein deficient. Dean resorted to buying disgusting looking frozen sausages and meat pattie things from a little shop. Probably dog.

Our adventure friends, Peter and Kim, in our dinghy going around Isle Nemou in Port Bouquet.

Our adventure friends, Peter and Kim, in our dinghy going around Isle Nemou in Port Bouquet.

It's still a dream, isn't it?

It’s still a dream, isn’t it?