Passage to New Zealand, part 1: the “parking lot”.

It was Thursday, October 11th, 2024, at 7:15 AM when O2 swept into the South Pacific’s parking lot, known as North Minerva Reef. The first few days of our passage had been a joyous beam-to-broad reach sail, averaging 7.5 knots. Until the suspension block for the Parasailor broke—again. This forced us to rely on motor sailing for the next 130 miles, pushing hard to reach the reef before the approaching tropical front closed in on us, while we were still vulnerable and out on the open ocean. But we made it inside in time!

North and South Minerva Reefs are quite a wondrous phenomenon. They vanish beneath the waves at high tide, lying smack in the middle of the vast ocean where you’d least expect them to be. In the old days, they wrecked many a ship, including the 1829 Australian whaling ship Minerva, which gave the South & North reefs their name. Over the years, Fiji, Tonga, and even an eccentric American real estate millionaire have all quarrelled over who would plant their flag on these reefs. In the end, Tonga won. Or perhaps, it’s the Pacific itself that is truly winning. It certainly seems like the ocean is getting ready to reclaim them any day now. But to us and the six other sailing vessels that are “parked” here at the moment, it is a beautiful and unique safe haven, and a great place to time the second and final leg of our passage to New Zealand.

I didn’t like it one bit, but the Kiwis take their biosecurity measures very seriously. So, I grudgingly complied as far as the corals and clams were concerned. I’m hoping they’ll let me keep the sea urchin skeleton aka “ sand dollar”, the pencil sea urchin aubergine coloured spines and the small cowrie shells, which I hold dear as our Ocean Goddess Yemayá protection charms.

Today, Sunday October 13th, we have received our orders from both the weather forecast programs and Chris Parker that it is time to say goodbye to Minerva Reef and get going in the general direction of the New Zealand border, our last “frontera” for this sailing season. We certainly don’t want to get caught like a sitting duck in gale force winds with thunder & lightning all around us, which we always find very very frightening indeed. Sea legend has it that catamaran masts are most prone to receive a direct lightning hit, which is why monohulls prefer to anchor closely by. So far we have been spared, and we plan to keep it that way.

So, after one last inspection of our “scum” free hull, of which the proof has been taken for bio security agents to inspect on arrival, and off we go. O2 is ready and eager. And so are we.