Heaven is a place called D’Urville
There are some places that are atrocious on a bad day, but outstanding on a good day. D’Urville Island is one of those places. In cold, cloudy, windy weather it’s a great place to hold up at anchor, as long as you don’t mind a little cabin fever. It all started 24 hours ago, when we hatched a plan to rise at 3:15am, so we could depart Bark Bay at 4am and make flat water at French Pass by 11:10am.
With the swirling currents, whirlpools and vortex’s at peak tidal flow, transiting French Pass at the wrong time can be dangerous. At best, you’ll give yourself a fright (and maybe mess you pants) as your vessel alters course 30 degrees when you hit the pass or it increases it’s speed over ground by 7 knots, with the full flow behind you. If you are really unlucky, you’ll try to push against 7 knots of current on the bow and it will spin you 180 degrees and take you towards the rocks.
Sounds scary and it can be. All you have to do is time it for flat water as the tide turns and 95% of the risks go away. So we departed Bark bay on time at 4am and the morning sky was fresh but clear. As the sun appeared at 7:40am, we noticed the fresh, overnight dusting of snow on the mountains behind the Abel Tasman. Given we are only one month into autumn, its more unseasonably early winter weather.
This mornings 8-12 knots of breeze was from the SW and it was cold. We hoisted the main and unfurled the jib at 4:30am and set off for a nice 30nm reach to French Pass. The wind eased and it made sense to get the motor started once again.
We approached French Pass about 20 minutes ahead of schedule and slowed Silver Fern to time our run to perfection, with Salt Lines following our track through the pass. It was warm in the direct sun, but chilly (as) in the shade. The crew had fishing on their mind, especially when I threatened them with home made, vegan burgers for dinner. As we skirted up the east coast of D’Urville Island, Ray and Johnny drop fishing lines overboard. Ray (a very capable fisherman) was holding his line in his fingers, waiting for the elusive nibble.
Morning tea was a steady flow of hot cross buns from the oven, with some primed with butter and others doused in honey as well.
Johnny managed to coerce me into giving Ray’s line a short, sharp tug when Ray wasn’t looking, which was met with “bloody hell, I just got a big bite” and a serious look on Rays face. Johnny and I burst out laughing and Ray figured he’d been pranked. I took the blame and risk of future retribution. After a lack in the passage, we headed to a secret fishing spot, recommended by our recent Te Kaihōpara skipper; Chris Williams, near the top of D’Urville. I moved Silver Fern into position on the 7m contour and the action was immediately underway. Our crew landed a dozen blue cod in 15 minutes and we were done.
With enough cod for a very nice dinner for 10, the vegan burgers lived to fight another day. Buoyed by our success, we headed around the top of D’Urville Island with South Arm the destination for the night. We were excited at the chance to anchor up together again with Salt Lines and Te Kaihōpara, for what will probably be the last time these three yachts are together in New Zealand (as the sailing calendar separates them for next 2 years).
We found a spot in the end of the cove beside Te Kaihōpara and headed ashore to say hello to their crew. Johnny and Matt headed off in the RIB in search of some paua and came back with a bucket of mussels, explaining the paua were all too small to touch. We had one hell of a delicious dinner and then headed to Te Kaihōpara for a bit of a social catch-up with all three crew.
I had a chance to get my drone in the air again and captured some beautiful footage of the bay. The high hills that wrapped aound us, provided great protection from the SE winds lashing Cook Strait and the Marlborough Sounds to the south of us. The water was dead calm and the air was cool, the perfect night to be snuggled up under plenty of blankets.