Sail Away

The idea of long stretches of sea, boyish boat knots and potentially treacherous waves never seemed to appeal compared to land or air travel. I've never considered sailing as I haven't got sea legs, but now I've been developing them by living on the Thames, a pretty fast flowing river, the paddles on the sea gates are slowly opening.

Hannah's husband Daniel explained that you can sail around the world in 15-17 day crossings. The possibility of connecting the dots, the freedom of the sea and the level of self agency has an allure.

The sea has its own laws; not only are you subject to the waves themselves but international maritime rules are different to the land. You have up to 72 hours once you enter any place. Although you are expected to use a boat passport, in reality you can dock anywhere in any country largely unnoticed.

Daniel built their family boat from a hull and skeleton, originally crafted around 1900. At one stage Hannah and Daniel took their kids out of school to sail 9 months around Tonga and the Polynesian islands. When they returned to school, the teachers noted their increase in confidence and self-reliance. "Books aren't the only education that matters", I noted during one of our conversations.

When we set off for the Abel Tasman National Park, the harbour in Takaka was very still. The clear blue water glistened with sunshine and the horizon afar stood very flat, challenging vessels afloat to reach it. The odd seal bobbed in an out of sight. As we picked up speed and sensed the salt air, the surrounding view of rocks and islands in the vast waters rendered images of olde sea tales like Moby Dick, Robinson Crusoe and Pirates of the Caribbean.




As we sat on deck with a beer and sunshine in our faces, the experience mellowed and became very relaxing. When we approached Adele island I could hear this raucous from the trees- the strangest array of bird noises as if creatures were pumping air down long metal poles of different lengths. As we pulled up, Daniel got ready to anchor and Hannah told me, "they're bell birds".

We would spend the night by the little island with gentle waves splashing against the rocks and the prehistoric sounds emerging from the overgrowth.

That evening, after the kids had finished exhausting themselves exploring in their little kayaks, we played Kiwi monopoly. Outside the porthole, the brightest moon could be seen filling the sky with silken light.



The next day we were up to hear the very first bird call which resounded over the island as the first light fetched the blackened water from the sea. We then sailed to Nelson where I would pick up a bus to Picton and from there a ferry to Wellington to meet Kat for the wedding.