Bay Of Islands, NZ.

While a whole fleet of sailing vessels still coming down from Tonga and Fiji continues to be battered by the waves – with SV Ruffian dismasted and SV Agape sunk (though all aboard were rescued by SV Zipper) – we do feel rather guilty about the good times we’re having here in New Zealand’s Bay of Islands. Our passage only 11 days ago was rough as well, but fortunately O2 bravely faced the ocean and arrived safely in one piece. And so did we. Shorts and T-shirts by day, sweaters and duvets from dusk till dawn—we love it. We feel as though New Zealand has already adopted us.

New Zealand, where life is ‘sweet as,’ most things are ‘good as gold,’ and where the locals are down-to-earth while the slender seagulls wear red lipstick , a touch of red mascara, and strut around in red soled Louboutin shoes.After the recent dry spell of limited fresh veggies and fruits, and in preparation for our walk on the wild side later on , we’ve dived headfirst into all the goodies that The Bay of Islands has to offer. First, we celebrated O2’s great performance and her 5-year anniversary with a splurge at an upscale restaurant called Terra, in the town of Paihia. The meal was super delicious—‘sweet as,’ as the Kiwis would say—but, unsurprisingly, quite pricey. On the taxi ride back to the Opua marina, Wayne, the cab driver asked if we knew the origin of the name Terra. ‘It’s derived from terrAbly expensive,’ he said with a booming laugh, and gave us a discount on the ride. As I said, ‘good as gold”, these Kiwis are.

The next day, we tied up our dinghy at Omata Vineyard’s hitching post like it was our horse, and strolled the 1-kilometer path through the woods to see what the vineyard had in store. Quite a lot, as it turned out. Afterward, My Captain was more than satisfied to restock the empty wine bilge with some quality bottles of syrah and pinot gris.

These first weeks on New Zealand soil have also provided plenty of food for thought. Our initial immersion into the historical and present-day relationship between Māori and Pākehā—descendants of white European settlers—showed significant progress since the days of conflict and the treacherous 1840 Treaty that left the Māori lost in translation. On purpose.

It is a history of land theft and broken promises to the point that even late Queen Elizabeth felt the need to utter a formal apology for it all as late as 1995. Things had been that bad for that long. However, tides have turned for the better. There is a strong Māori revival going on and we bought ourselves a Te Reo (Māori language) dictionary to get a better grasp. During that eye opening visit to the historic Treaty Grounds in Waitangi, we also bumped into a joyful group of schoolchildren, united in their diversity—Kiwis alike on a history field trip and clearly having a ball. Just like us, they were captivated by the dancing, the Māori storytelling, and the rich culture. Everything is gonna be alright.

Each time we drop anchor some place different in the Bay of Islands, we set off “tramping”—Kiwi English for hiking—beneath dramatic skies. The trails are alive with birdsong, thanks to the conservation efforts of the “Island Song” project. New Zealanders take the fight against “pests” like possums (it’s a pity these cute little buggers have a taste for eggs) rats, and Australian skinks (kind of lizard) very seriously, with traps discreetly placed throughout the islands and reminders for visitors like us to keep our boat and gear clean. The ultimate goal is to pull the kiwi bird back from the brink of extinction. At a local quirky little art gallery, where among other things also possum-skull art was on display, the gallery owner proudly announced that it had recently been safe enough to release 13 more kiwi birds into the wild. And with that, another possum bit the dust.