Mokohinau Islands was on the agenda for the day as Te Kaihōpara and her crew set sail for the beautiful Islands in the Hauraki Gulf. The ocean swells were just enough to keep things interesting as I went down to the galley during our passage to practise my pots n’ pans juggling skills. Lunch was a quick affair once we slid through the precarious gap between giant rocks and saw a lonesome lighthouse on the hilltop. Adjoining it was a little house that I’m sure Edgar Allan Poe would’ve appreciated, as the I dropped off the crew via dinghy next to a very Lovecraftian set of rock cut stairs. I went back to Te Kaihōpara and shared a good laugh with her, as the the clouds opened up almost immediately and almost assuredly drenched my fellow expeditionist’s onshore.

The pick up by tender was quite exhilarating as some of the crew decided to dive head first into the tender, instead of the usual one-step-after-another method. I didn’t really mind, as long as my tender-baby was safe and sound. The showers threatened to drench us again, as we upped anchor and proceeded towards Port Fitzroy. Helen cooked a delicious dinner (Thai green curry) as Ross stood alongside her, as the official taste-tester. Both members of Watch ‘C’ did exceptionally well as no left-overs remained.

Port Fitzroy Bay brought with it an air of drama, that this trip had desperately been missing, as no one had any phone signal, bread rations ran dangerously low (last three loaves for the remaining few days! God Save Us!) and David Hows sent me and Mick a very incriminating email regarding our excessive Starlink usage. In all honesty, I probably did listen to one too many Amazonian Jungle Python wrestling podcasts last night. Or maybe Mick was watching one-too-many Mexican weather updates. We will never know! I dropped off the crew for their hike around the Glenfern Sanctuary and came back to the boat and prepared some nachos with guacamole for our brave crew. Picking them up after a few hours turned into a bit of an ordeal as my tender baby decided to throw a tantrum and stopped running. No amount of cajoling or choking would get it to run. Fortunately, Helen had managed to maintain yachting customs and had waved a ‘hello’ to a passing by motor yacht who decided to give us a tug back to Te Kaihōpara.

Back alongside Te Kaihōpara, the tender’s engine decided to mysteriously start working again. Satisfied for the moment, we set off to collect firewood for our night time BBQ at Smokehouse bay. As we rounded up our first we wooden-victims, my tender baby threw yet another tantrum! With no towing options in sight, me and Delwyn towed our way back to Te Kaihōpara. Mick and I stripped the engine bare, switched the fuel filter for a new one and even considered removing the engine off the tender to get a better look at it. As I was reading online forums for possible solutions from strangers on the internet, Mick discovered that the fuel line from the portable tank had an arrow on it which was pointing the wrong way. A quick switch around and lo and behold! My baby was back in action!

Darkness loomed over the bay as we decided to stay onboard and get the barbecue up and running. Bridgette, one of Mick’s previous First Mate’s from Steinlager II dropped by to admire Te Kaihōpara and I noticed that she had different coloured nail polish on both her feet. It took me back to my time on a tiny Island in the Gulf of Thailand, where time seemed to stop and I, too, frolicked with black nail polish on all available fingers and toes. They did look quite ethereal underwater when diving or snorkelling.

The previous day’s panic over bread seemed a distant echo of a memory, as a gargantuan feast of barbecued burger patties, crispy skin sausages and chocolate cake with cranberry sauce topped of yet another beautiful day in the Islands of the Hauraki Gulf. We set off the following morning to catch a glimpse of the legendary Smokehouse Bay. The crew went ashore as I decided to clean up Te Kaihōpara a bit. Thanks for ruining a good man Jo Ivory! (one of Te Kaihōpara’s cleaning-obsessed previous skippers) 

With not much wind on the horizon, we started motoring for the Chamberlins Island, a.k.a Ponui Island. Off-watch, I decided to sneak in some alone time in my cabin, but had barely gotten started on the latest episode of Amazonian Python Wrestlers, when I heard a distinct drop in the main engine’s RPM. (that’s revolutions per minute for the more artistically inclined) I ran up to the wheelhouse to find the sails being put up! As we settled on our new heading with the main, mizzen, head and Iron sails, I decided to head down and compromise by listening to my podcast in the saloon. As always, just as I began to ease into my vertically inclined-lounging pose, a cacophony of alarms started going off. One look at the B&G screen and I knew what it was. Man overboard!

I ditched my phone across the sofa and clambered up to the wheelhouse again. There seemed to be no panicking or pointing happening here. A quick mental headcount then revealed to me the actual situation. Someone had accidentally activated their Personal Locator Beacon in their lifejacket, just like the Marlborough sounds trip a few weeks ago! I quickly found the errant one (it was missing a protective cover for the activation button), which Mick had on. It had been stashed away in the back of the storage locker by me since the last incident, but, as Murphy’s law goes, Mick had exchanged his with this one without me noticing and we had to cancel a ‘Mayday Relay’ voice distress message from Maritime NZ. Crisis resolved, for now. As I finally got my phone back in my hands, I had multiple missed calls and messages from all members of the Ocean Sailing Expeditions team in various corners of the world, who had obviously received the beacon activation news from the nearby NZ Rescue Coordination Centre. Today just wasn’t the day to listen to Amazonian Python Wrestling adventure podcasts.

The rest of the evening was relatively stress free as Cheryl blew everyone away, with a delicious Irish stew, chocolate brownies and hot custard! I wish Te Kaihōpara had a mouth, because I genuinely felt bad for her for missing out on this feast. Thus, the full moon bathed Te Kaihōpara in ivory-coloured bliss as the crew got some much needed rest.

- Arjun Thimmaya, Chief Mate, Te Kaihōpara