After a bit of a sleep in, we woke in Ketu Bay in yet another protected, dead calm anchorage. The Marlborough Sounds really is incredible and it takes on the appearance of a mini-Fiordland, when the cloud drops down low over the hills and the mist rolls in. We woke up to an eerie morning, shrouded in mist and low cloud and it never really lifted all day.

The Salt Lines crew had found a couple of coastal walks, one 7km from Penzanace Bay to Elaine Bay and another 4km from Deep Bay and headed to the same destination. Silver Fern and Salt Lines motored the 7nm deeper into the Sounds, with Silver Fern, using their (easier to launch) RIB to ferry both crews ashore for hikes. Sharon got everyone excited by mentioning the ice-creams for sale at Elaine Bay and once the drop offs at both walking tracks were complete, we headed to Elaine Bay to anchor, look for ice-creams and discuss the passage plan for the next few days (now that we had Starlink coverage working happily again).

To our disappointment there was no ice-cream shop. Sharon’s explanation for her assumptions, were that every campground sells ice-creams. As Elaine Bay only had 20 tent sites, we figured it was below the minimum economic level required to support such an enterprise.

Sharon suggested heading south that evening for Akaroa, which would be a 210nm passage to the quaint French settlement, on Banks Peninsula, south of Christchurch. With the weather variable and eventually going NE, it made sense to get the 36-hour trek down the South Island’s East Coast, underway. Why anchor, when you can be sailing?

We decided to up anchors and make dinner on the way out of Pelorus Sound, before we hit Cook Strait. In the benign conditions, it was fairly comfortable as the crews rolled into their night watch teams for the second night in a row. With wind shifting around and cycling between 3 and 17 knots overnight, it was anything but easy.

When the engine was run in the light patches during the night, I had heard the revs jumping around a little. It’s a sure sign that a fuel filter needs changing, as the engine is suffering a little from fuel starvation. When I got up briefly at 5am engine was off again, so I flicked the lever on the twin fuel filters, so that it would start drawing fuel through the fresh one.

*Matt doing navigation training with Emma*

I woke up again 3 hours later and decided to start the generator to charge batteries. There were also air bubbles coming out of the galley taps, a sign the water tank is low. The next step was to turn on the water maker, only to find it would not run properly due to air bubbles in the line.

*A wide angle view of the crew on watch; Mike, Johnny, John, Matt and Ray*

As I was about to shut the water maker down, the generator stopped as well. ‘Great’ I thought, ‘just what I need at the start of my day’. I assumed the heeling of 10-15 degrees had caused some fuel starvation, due to fighting gravity, so set about bleeding the generator fuel line. Only problem was, no fuel came out of the bleed nozzle and the generator would not restart.

With the main water tank low, we needed to run the water maker. I tried to bleed it again, but it still ran with air in the lines. Matt had a theory that the opposite tack would be easier on the sea chest, so we tacked away from the Kaikoura Coast and headed east to test the theory. The water maker is hungry on power, so (in the absense of a generator) I decided to start the engine, to help replace some of the power use. The next problem was, the engine started, ran for 60 seconds and then stopped as well.

‘Great’ I thought (actually it was more like $@%$#, that I was thinking) and I hoped we did not have water back in our fuel tanks again. It was technically impossible, but anything is possible on a boat. Now we had no engine, no generator, no way to run the water maker, batteries at 80% and an almost empty water tank.

*Tim happy to climb into the boom to flake the main as it drops*

Nespresso is always the answer in these circumstances, so why not sacrifice the last of the water for a sacred cup! Thats what George Clooney would do. Rejuvinated after my coffee and slightly less downhearted, I headed back to the engine room to work on the problem. While it did not make sense, solving the problem would fix the engine and generator at the same time. It had to be fuel, so I double checked the sight glasses in the two pre-filters. One was a little dirty and the other sparkling clean. Then I checked the selector handle to make sure the right filter was selected. I had drawn marks with a black felt pen, so it was impossible to stuff it up,

The only issue was, that my selector handle was not set for filter one or filter two. It had been set to off instead. I had turned the fuel supply off at 5am this morning, instead of selecting to new filter. Bloody idiot! But that was the best news as the solution was now really simple. First we started the engine and it ran rough for 15 seconds initially and then purred. This time when I tried to bleed the generator line, the fuel flowed easily out of the bleed nozzle. Next we started the generator and it carried on like an old man with emphysema to start with, before finally settling into its happy rhythm after 30 seconds.

*The chiselled out headland on the southern side of the entrance to Akaroa*

The last bastion was the water maker. Matt suggested we check the two pre-filters as well in case they were causing salt water intake starvation. Despite being changed 2 months ago, one was okay and the other was filthy, so we swapped them over as well. Another bleed of the water make system and it fired up happily and went onto make 400 litres of fresh water for the tank in the next 3 hours.

Its amazing what fills up your day at sea, even when there’s nothing planned. Even when you screw things up, there’s satisfaction in fixing them. As we entered the Akaroa Harbour mouth and went to drop the mainsail, it became stuck part way down. Sharon called us up on the VHF to say she could see bolts sticking out of the mainsail luff track. Our only option was to get someone up the mast, so Matt volunteered and headed up with allan keys, locktite (glue) and tefgel (to coat bolts where stainless touches alloy). It did not take him long and he found the 3 guilty culprits and tightened them up again and down came the mainsail.

With the sunshining a pod of Dusky Dolphins appeared to play on our bow wave and guide us up the harbour channel, to the anchorage in French Bay.

It’s been a good run down the coast and we’ve had a great sail. I can’t wait to head into the nearest french cafe in ‘Rue Jolie’ the main street of Akaroa, and say “un café et un croissant s'il vous plaît”

David

Join the crew for a sailing adventure

Next stop: La Rue Jolie

Dusky Dolphins and Crazy Caves

Luckily Sharon’s not competive!