Kathy
12/17/2008, Gulf Harbour, New Zealand

We are settling in Gulf Harbour Marina, we bought a used car, the girls are going to the mall every chance they get, and Sean is looking for a job that can help pay for our new life in civilization. We miss our family and friends and would love to hear from you...

Here's our contact info in New Zealand:

Mail:
Sean, Kathy, Tara and Casey O'Neil
PO Box 525
Whangaparaoa, Auckland 0943
New Zealand

Cell phones:
Sean and Kathy: 64-21-0262-6135
Tara and Casey: 64-21-045-1291

email:
Sean: rotalumis@gmail.com
Kathy: oneil.kathy@gmail.com
Tara: taralynn94@gmail.com
Casey: rubia_chick@yahoo.com

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Sean
12/03/2008, Opua, New Zealand

"Hey Fred! Did you get a Commander's weather report?"
"Yea! I talked to them this morning. It looks like were a GO for tomorrow." Fred, the captain of Ogopogo had called the weather routing service earlier that morning. Fred's a conservative sailor who doesn't like to stress his boat. Fred's careful. I like this about Fred.
"What are the conditions like?" I was nervous. After the rudder failure, my confidence in Adventure was compromised. I was damaged psychologically. I wanted to motor to New Zealand in 3 knots of wind.
"Oh! It looks good. There's a low pressure system that'll put the wind right behind us. We'll get blown all the way into New Zealand."
I didn't like it. He mentioned wind. "How much wind?"
"Oh! He said something about 35-40 knots." Fred said this glibly - like it was something we sailed in every day. Whenever there's lots of wind sailors react the same way. "It's not the wind," they say, "It's the waves that scare me." Well unfortunately with one, comes the other. I could see my long motor fantasy dissolving before my eyes.
I tried to put on a brave face.

"Forty knots! Are you crazy?!" I felt the blood drain out of my face. I convinced Fred to hold off a day so that we could see if the low pressure system would really develop.


The next morning 16 of the 19 boats at Minerva were leaving. Fred had called the Commander Weather service again and the same forecast was given. We should only see a max of 14 seas though. Since everyone else was jumping off the bridge, we thought we should too. We began the process of weighing anchor only to find that our chain had wrapped itself around a coral head. Maybe this was a sign that we shouldn't leave. Even Adventure is afraid to go.

I jumped in the water and Kathy and I redirected Adventure around the coral head as everyone began to leave. It took about 30 minutes, but we were able to get free. We were on our way - 800 miles to Opua.

As we exited the reef we raised Adventure's full main and put out the genoa. We were ready to do some serious sailing. The faster we went the sooner we'd get there. We chose to pound into the sea as opposed to following the wind and after 4 hours we were in the lead. It's not a race, I told myself, but we're WINNING!

That night we double reefed the main. We then discovered that our genoa roller furling was sticking again. We struggled to pull it in even though the winds were light. We decided to keep it in and pulled the stay sail instead.

We had an uneventful night. It had been a good first day.

Day 2
We were passed by 3 boats during the night. Our double reefed main and stay sail had really slowed our progress. We were still making 5-6 knots, though, so we left things as they were. It's not a race. Through out the day, the wind shifted around to our stern. We were holding a direct course to Opua and making good progress. There was slight hitch, though, the weather was getting worse. Chatter on the SSB nets, full of weather news stated that the low pressure system was building strength. There was another low behind it. The high pressure system that we were in was getting compressed and more wind was coming.

Day 3:
We tune into a morning SSB net that has all of the boats checking in. Distance is developing between the boats now. Boats without SSB radios start falling out of VHF range.

We hear a report that Commanders is stating that we heave to at 29S 175E for two days. TWO DAYS! That's a long time to sit out in the ocean and do nothing. We have a family meeting. Kathy and I agree to head for the new coordinates. Tara and Casey complain that it isn't fair and that I didn't do a proper job getting a weather forecast. Some boats are ignoring the suggestion and the girls think we should follow suit. We triple reef the main and take in the stay sail. Adventure slows to 3.2 knots and have an easy night. Casey and I watch a movie: Thoroughly Modern Millie (We're down to the bottom of the pile now).

Day 4:
I decide that it's time to get my own weather forecast. I send Commanders a request for weather. It states the following:

wind gusts to 50-55 kts are possible near any squalls. Once the cold front passes you between 12utc Monday and 00utc Tuesday,winds shift into the W and decrease to 15-25 kts. There may be little difference in the forecast if you were to heave to around 29s and then you may have to deal with developing moderate to strong SW to S headwinds (18-28 kts) mid week. There may be a secondary cold front that approaches NZ from the SW late Tuesday.

Kathy and I read this and were quite frustrated. We'd spent the entire night going slow only to find out that there was no way to avoid high winds. We were going to get hit no matter what. We pull out some sail and started moving towards our goal. The wind was 20-25 knots now and the seas were already building. We were doing 5-8 knots as we surf down swells. It's a rough day.

We tell the girls the bad news. Casey takes it the worst. "Mom! I don't think we're looking at all our options here."
"What other options are there Casey?"
"Mom!" Casey says quite seriously, "I think we should call the New Zealand Air Force, sink the boat, and fly to New Zealand."

As I overhear Casey I can't help but think that she's on to something. Kathy assures Casey that she's wrong.

At this point I feel if I'm on some prolonged roller coaster ride. The feeling I get as I'm being pulled up to the top of the hill. The feeling that you've made some huge mistake and there's no getting off. Only instead of it being a 2 minute ride, it's going to take 2 more days. There's nowhere to run.

Day 5:
We're getting close to the front now. We got a new Commander report. Wind predictions were now 40-45 knots with gusts up to 50. I felt my throat close. It was hard to breathe. I go to our books and start reading about heavy weather sailing. We have several options: heaving to, lying ahull, or running off. Based on the fact that Adventure is a light displacement production boat, we decide that running off (running dead down wind with the seas behind us) is our best strategy. If we get going too fast, we'll deploy a drogue.

Kathy and I grab the drogue and start reading the instructions:

"So! You want to deploy a drogue? Well, before we get to that remember... Survival is a state of mind...

The next two pages are about having a surviving attitude. There's more text about having the right attitude than instructions on how to deploy the drogue. We basically tie it to a long rope with some chain at the end and hope for the best. We decided that this is a last resort option.

I grab the girls for some refreshers on how to use the EPIRB and SSB radio.
"Girls! Can you come here? I think we should have a refresher on how to use the EPIRB."
Tara erupts! "Why Dad! Why do we need to know how to use the EPIRB?"
Casey jumps in, "Yeah! You said we'd be okay Dad! I don't think we need to know this Dad."
"I just thought that it would be good to refresh ourselves-"
"Dad! You said we be okay. And now you're freaking us out Dad!" Tara yells in near hysterics.
"Tara! We should always be prepared for the worst case scenario."
Casey jumps in again, "Dad! Why won't you do the EPIRB. What do we have to use it for? You said we'd be all right!"
Kathy jumps in, "Sean! You're freaking the kids out. As Captain you're supposed to keep things in order. See there! Tara's crying now."
"I just wanted to show everyone how to use the EPIRB."
"Dad! You're freaking us out!"

I give up and walk away. It's clear that everything is up to me at this point. My heart sinks. What have I gotten my family in to? This is big boy stuff. I begin to understand how captains snap under these conditions. There's a massive guilt feeling. I dismiss it quickly. It's not helpful. I decide to do my best and leave the rest up to God.

I try to keep a happy face on during the net. I take over the evening net to keep track of the boats ahead and behind us. This is very difficult to do in rolling seas. Casey helps me with the lats and longs of each boat. We're in the middle of the pack now. This is where I want to be in case something goes wrong.

Day 5:
The seas smooth out some. The winds calm a little. It's Sunday now and we're on a collision course with destiny (I'm being sappy now!). Weather is being constantly discussed now. Everyone has an opinion and it's clear to Kathy and me that each individual hears and sees only what they want to see. We're all in denial.

We start listening to Des from Opua offshore. Des is old and sounds like a very terse Yoda.
"What is your position?" he asks in a shaky voice. We hear another boat check in with their position. Des answers, "30 tonight, 35-40 tomorrow." That's it! Des is on to the next boat. That's all you get from Des. At least it's not a lot of dribble about the weather. He just tells you straight - you're going to die and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

I email Commanders again. I keep hoping for the following: "Yeah Adventure! If you just move north ¼ degree in latitude, you'll miss the whole thing." It doesn't happen. Commanders send me the following:

Grib files suggest winds to 30-40 kts, but I do think there could be squalls up to 50-60 kts for a time, most likely between 03-15 utc. With the strong NE to N flow, there will be big sea, but will be from behind you.

At 2:00 am Kathy realizes that the diamond from her wedding ring is missing. I take this as a bad omen. Kathy reminds me that we don't believe in omens. She searches everywhere for the diamond to no avail. I realize that I'm massively depressed.

Day 6:
It's the day of the bomb is going to hit. Kathy and I have taken all sails down. We've turned on the motor and our plan is to run with the seas. We will use the motor for any extra power, if we need it.

Kathy finds her diamond. It was in her pocket. "You know I thoroughly checked my pockets last night," she says. "God put it back in my pocket." I take this as a good omen even though I don't believe in omens.

We get encouraging words from fellow boats ahead of us. They've decided that the low is being pushed south and is going to miss us. I'm cautiously optimistic. I figured we're going to get hit no matter what. My buoyweather forecast for the day:

11/24 7am NNE 28 21 - 29 NE 7sec 10 - 15
11/24 1pm NNE 18 23 - 31 NE 7sec 11 - 17
11/24 7pm NNE 17 22 - 30 NE 7sec 11 - 17

24hr position forecast for : -34.09S 174.12E
-------------------------------------------------------
WIND SEAS
dir/deg range(kt) dir/per range(ft)
------------------ -------------------
11/25 1am NNW 346 24 - 33 N 9sec 15 - 23
11/25 7am WSW 244 10 - 14 N 9sec 13 - 20

I know we're going to have some big seas. Nigel Calder's cruising handbook states:

Many modern boat designs will get rolled over by breaking waves with a height that is just 40% of the boat's length overall. No boat designs survived breaking waves with a height of 55% of the boat's length overall.

Kathy and I break out the foul weather gear. We reposition everything we can and prepare for the oncoming storm. I think about some of the boats behind us. They're smaller boats than us. We're all on our own. I try to psyche myself up but it's difficult. I tell myself that I have my Captain Nemo beard, and my superhero boots on. I haven't bathed in 6 days. I am INVINCIBLE. Kathy's quite, Casey and Tara are scared and are not afraid to show it. I need some testosterone right now - someone to yell, "Yeah! Let's do this! Let's get it DONE!"

5:45 pm - we finish the net. The weather is starting to pick up. We have 25-30 knots. The engine is running well.

6:30 pm - Our racor fuel filter guage is showing red. There's pressure building in the system. I suspect that there's some junk in the fuel and the filters getting clogged. "That's why we have two racor filters," I tell myself. I switch to another fuel filter. The gauge does not change. I don't understand why. The engine is still running smoothly. I decided to let it go.

7:30 pm - The engine begins to overheat. It doesn't sound right. It sounds like there's something wrong in the exhaust system. We decide to kill the engine and deploy our stay sail.

8:00 pm - The storm hits! We can see a squall approaching from behind. It's moving fast. The seas are easily 17 feet at this point. We have to run with the seas. The wind is 35 knots now and the dodger is shaking up and down. The wind is howling and loud. The autopilot is screaming to keep the boat on track. The swells are breaking around us for 30 seconds, or more. I'm afraid to look back at the swells now. They're too big. We're hitting 11 knots as we surf down the swells.

11:00 pm - A swell breaks over the back of the boat and swaps me. Kathy and I are sitting in the back and getting rained on. We hold hands like Thema and Louise. (I'm not sure which one I am.) The squalls keep appearing on the radar. They're moving at 15 knots and taking a long time to get over us because we're moving so fast.

1:00 am - We're tired. The swells are at their maximum height now. I suspect that they're 17 - 23 feet at 7 seconds. We have 42 knots behind us and Adventure reaches a top speed of 13.6 knots. I want to take the stay sail down and run with bare poles. Kathy objects. We think that the worst is almost over. We just need to hold on for a couple more hours.

Kathy decides to get out of the rain and goes inside. She sits on the steps just inside the saloon. I watch the squall on the radar and micro-manage the autopilot. "You're doing great little guy." The autopilot is screaming as it keeps Adventure on track. Adventure looks as if I'm trying to do a dinghy landing on some gigantic surf.

I sit down and get hit by a swell that breaks over the back of the boat. A rogue hits the starboard quarter panel and I feel the entire boat vibrate.

"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!" The autopilot alarms goes off indicating a loss of steerage. I jump up ready to take control and steer. I keep thinking, "I can't steer in this!" The autopilot quickly regains control. I take a long breath and sit back down.

3:00 am - We had determined that 3:00 am was the point when the storm should being to subside - its not. The wind is still blowing at 30 -35 knots and another squall is coming. I decide that we have to get the stay sail down. Having it up is driving us off course. We're 30 miles off course now. We won't be able to make it in by the next day if it keeps up. Kathy comes up and we pull it in very carefully. We don't want to rip the sail to shreds.

4:30 am - I tell Kathy that I need to lay down for 30 minutes. She's not happy. She doesn't want to be up there all alone. With the stay sail down our speed is much more manageable.

I lay down and begin to hear voices on the radio. Only there ain't no voices. I try to ignore them. Kathy wakes me up at 5:00 am. The wind is now at 14 knots. The storm has finally passed.

The major stresses are over. "We've made it!" I exclaim early in the morning. We home free!

Tara was first to respond, "Dad! You need to get a job in New Zealand quick. I need new clothes, a cell phone, and a computer."
Casey jumps in, "And a house, Dad - with a game room and, possibly, a pool."

Again, I feel the blood rush from all my limbs; my blood pressure rising...

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Kathy
12/01/2008, Passage to New Zealand

(Note: this will be my final Weekly Recap blog. Now that we're in New Zealand, I'll just post a story every week or so - along with stories from Sean and the girls. Thanks for reading!)

Wed. Nov 19 Minerva Reef to Day 1 to New Zealand
We packed up the boat and pulled anchor at 9am. Our anchor was stuck on a coral head, so Sean had to jump in the water with his mask on to tell me which way to drive Adventure to get the chain un-wrapped. Then we were off, along with about 6 other boats that had already left, and more that would leave later in the day. There had been 20 boats at the reef, all waiting for the storms down south to pass before making a break for New Zealand.

The weather was pleasant and the seas calm enough for me to make two loaves of banana bread. Janet had taken some of my bananas the night before and had already made her bread earlier that morning. But the calm seas were just a facade and they and the wind started to pick up. We were not happy. We ended up with 16-20 knots all day and night, with rough, choppy seas. All of us girls were sea sick. No one ate dinner.

The sleeping arrangements while we're in bumpy seas and on a port tack are difficult for us. Our master bed is not usable because it is too far forward, where the boat is bumping up and down too much. Casey usually sleeps there while we're under way so that Sean and I can hot-bunk in her bed, which has two port holes that open to the cockpit. In case there is an emergency, the person in the cockpit can more easily wake up the person sleeping in Casey's room. The couch in the dining room was only useable on a starboard tack. So with Casey sleeping in her room, we decided the best place for the person off-watch to sleep was on the cockpit floor. Only one cockpit settee is comfortable to lay on when we're heeling. The wind-ward settee flings off anyone sitting on it every time a wave hits. So we threw a few cushions, a bean bag, a pillow, and a blanket on the floor and the off-watch person slept there. It wasn't ideal, but that's how we spent the first night.

Thu. Nov 20 Day 2 to New Zealand
The seas got organized today and lay down a bit. The girls and I felt much better, but Sean was feeling it now. I gave him a pill and told him to take a nap. I cooked small-sized hamburgers for lunch, thinking we all needed some warm food in our tummies. Sean ate one too and felt better.

We all had to go dig around in our drawers to find those things that keep your feet warm. Either bare foot or in flip flops, we haven't had use for socks until now. Sean hasn't even worn his socks and tennies since his fateful hike in the Marquesas. The girls have grown so much on this trip that their shoes don't fit any more. We also had to dig out our long pants and jackets.

Casey got hungry again just before dinner time, so she got out the extra hamburger meat I'd cooked and put it on a grilled cheese sandwich. Sean and Tara wanted one too, so she kept on cooking. I've decided to try to eat just when I feel hungry, which is turning out to be two small meals, so my stomach feels good. So I skipped my evening meal.

At my second off-watch cycle, I decided to try to sleep in our forward bed and had a rough sleep. I lay across the bed sideways and propped my feet against the mast to keep me from sliding off with every wave. Even with all the hatches closed, I could feel the cool New Zealand air and had to dig my comforter out of the closet. It took up a lot of space and there were many times I almost got rid of it, but now I was glad that I hadn't.

Sean ended up doing a longer watch because he said the settee bench was more comfortable than the cockpit floor, where the off-watch person usually sleeps. He woke me an hour before sunrise. The seas and wind picked up as the sun came up. The wind was shifting to the North and the seas were in a confused state, randomly crashing against us. I made Sean and me a half-cup of coffee (because a whole one would spill) and we talked about our progress so far. We traveled 260 miles in 48 hours and at this rate, we'd get into Opua, New Zealand Tuesday at noon. We'd been fortunate so far because the wind was from the south east and now turning north east, pulling us along at a good clip. Many of our friends who'd gone before us had south winds on their nose, hampering their progress, or no wind at all. Some were taking more than 10 days to get to New Zealand and used up all their fuel to do it.

Fri. Nov 21 Day 3 to New Zealand
Sean went below to listen to the 9am net and to check in. Sean always participates in a net on the SSB radio while we're under passage so other boats know were we're at in case we have trouble and to hear what weather the boats in front of us are getting. After the net was over, he came into the cockpit and asked Tara and Casey to come too. There was bad news ahead and he wanted to have a family meeting. A low had just past us, a high was above us, and another low was coming in from New Zealand. The two lows were going to compress and create a squash zone where the winds would get up to 50 knots and the seas up to 14 feet. We are headed right for this squash zone. It will be the strongest near New Zealand on Sunday or Monday. On the net, Sean heard that Commanders (a weather routing service for sailors) had sent a report to a boat that left with us from Minerva Reef. Their recommendation is to travel one more day toward New Zealand to a specific way point and then heave-to (set our small sail to fly the opposite direction of our rudder so that the boat stays still) for two days to let the storm pass. This will mean we'll only get 35 knots of wind and 15 foot seas. The girls were very upset and Sean had to go below while Casey vented to me about it. I explained that we still had one more day to sail toward New Zealand and would get another forecast in the morning to verify that the storm was growing. She said that we should look at other options. "Like what?" I said. "I think we should call the New Zealand air force to come get us, sink the boat, and fly to New Zealand," she said. She was dead serious. I explained why that wasn't a good idea, but she wasn't convinced.

Although the seas were rough, they were the best they would be for the rest of the trip, so I had two goals today: cook our steaks and chicken breasts so we'd have some quick protein to grab when it gets worse, and take a shower because it will be the only one I get for the rest of the trip.

I cooked 6 chicken breasts, 3 with cajun seasoning and 3 with BBQ seasoning, and 4 steaks. We're not allowed to bring fresh or frozen meat into New Zealand, so I was glad to have it all cooked up now. For fresh meat, I only have 2 pounds of hamburger meat and a few fish fillets left in the freezer. I also have 5 frozen baguettes left. It's a real treat to have bread this many days from civilization. We're rationing the baguettes, eating one per day.

The wind and seas smoothed a bit and we decided to slow the boat down as much as possible to we could head for a position about 300 miles from New Zealand, where the wind and waves were not suppose to get a bad on Sunday and Monday when the storm passed by. We'd rather have the boat moving slowly ahead rather than heaving to. Our boat is rigged for only two reefs in our main, so Sean had to re-rig our first reef line to the third reef on our sail. I turned Adventure into the wind and waves so we could lower the sail part way. As Sean reached up to loosen the shackle holding the reef line, a wave lurched the boat to the side and Sean went flying through the air. I saw it in slow motion; he was falling backwards and the back of his head was going to hit the winch. A cracked skull and broken neck would come next. I was yelling and he was reaching for something hanging off the boom. The first reef line that he had been trying to unhook was hanging loose below the boom and the boat motion caused it to swing toward him. He grabbed it and his body jerked forward as it caught his fall. Wow, talk about trip-ending injuries. This could have been a really bad situation. God's kept us safe so far on this journey and this is another example of his protective hand on us.

With the third reef in, the motion was bumpier, but we slowed to 3.5 knots. Sean was on the radio all day, talking with other concerned cruisers about tactics and strategies for avoiding the worst of the coming storm. Several boats, including Kairos, have decided to sail through the storm and hope for the best. Kairos has new storm sails that they're going to use. They worked all day clearing their decks and stowing everything below. Sean sent off for a Commanders routing report and a Bob McDavit report, both for which we had to pay. He's hoping they work over the weekend and will get at least one back.

Sat. Nov 22 Day 4 to New Zealand
Sean slept through his watch for 5 or 6 hours, so we both woke up refreshed. Good thing we had our breaks on and weren't going fast! He checked his email and found a routing guide from Commanders had come through. They said to not heave-to, but keep sailing as fast as possible to New Zealand. The storm front had grown and would now reach the latitude they'd mentioned in Hanna's Commander's report from the previous day. So, if we hove-to, we'd still be in the middle of the storm. Sean read our report on the net and Hanna said that they'd gotten an updated report from Commanders that was still telling them to heave-to. The skipper on Hanna said he'd call Commanders on his sat-phone and find out why two different routers from Commanders were giving two different recommendations. He got back on the radio a little later and said that the staff at Commanders had met together and now all agree that we should go for New Zealand. All the boats out here with us (probably about 20) are now going for New Zealand, so I hope they are right. We lost about a half a day by slowing down yesterday and now hope to get into Opua on Tuesday morning.

The weather reports show the winds and seas building today and tomorrow and then peaking on Monday, where we may have 50-knot squalls hitting us and 18-foot, confused seas.

Fifth Season, one of the other boats that left Minerva Reef with us, hit a whale and sustained damage to their bow. They said that they have the hole shored-up so no sea water is coming in, but aren't looking forward tot he rough conditions to come.

We're on yellow-alert, so we're required to wear our life jackets when we're in the cockpit now and we'll strap in at night. Sean got out a book to read up on storm tactics and calculated that it would only take a 17-foot wave to knock Adventure over. This is not a statistic I wanted to hear.

Another disconcerting thing happened when Sean went up to string our jack line along the deck so he has something to clip to in case he has to go up in bad weather. I heard him say, "Uh-oh." "What does that mean?" I said. He handed me the head of a sheered-off screw. I guess we'll find out where it came from sooner or later...

Jan mailed us and was upset that we would miss his birthday on the 24th. He'd made a change from crewing on Ogopogo to crewing on Caminata and was already in Opua waiting for us. Since we weren't going to get to Opua in time to celebrate with him, he went down to Auckland and found a place to stay for $17 per night. He's going to try to get a labor job, but isn't sure if he can get a work visa.

Casey and I lay in the cockpit and came up with silly songs to the tune of the "It's a Whale of a Tale" song from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

The winds and seas built slowly throughout the day, but we'd gotten our sea legs and did just fine. Clint called Sean on the SSB and Casey came up to tell me the good news...the low front seems to be dissipating and we can expect better weather on Sunday and Monday than our forecasts had predicted. We did a high-five to celebrate. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

Sun. Nov 23 Day 5 to New Zealand
We had about 15 foot seas and 30 knot winds last night and it was a bit rough, but not too scary.

Sean's updated wind gribs and other reports from the net indicate that today should be bearable, but tomorrow will be rough. We'll be passing through a squall line, so 50-knot winds are still possible at this time. If we can avoid the squalls, the wind and sea conditions should not be much more than we've had so far. The girls are being brave through it all and none of us are sea sick. We are prepared to celebrate with fast food, fancy coffee drinks, and ice cream when we tough land.

The wind and seas calmed all morning and we actually had to motor-sail when we had only 9 knots of wind. In the afternoon, the winds picked back up to 17-20 knots and the seas picked up too.


Mon. Nov 24 Day 6 to New Zealand
When we raised the main sail, we found out where the screw head came from...one of the screws that connects the main sheet to the traveler was sheered off. We lowered the main and turned the engine on. The engine started to overheat, so we turned it off. Our jib is not furling right, so this leaves us with just or small staysail. We know the big storm is going to hit us today and we're down to just one useable sail. We can use our jib in a pinch, but may not be able to pull it in once it's out. We had building seas and wind all day and the weather bomb hit at 7pm. We had 35 knot sustained and 49 knot gusts of wind and 23-foot seas; the worst we've been in by far. It was a harrowing experience. Sean will post a separate blog with all the details.

Tue. Nov 25 Day 7 to New Zealand
The storm had blown us off course quite a bit and we spent the entire day sailing west to get to New Zealand. We got in just at dusk and, as we passed by the yacht club to get to the Quarantine dock, about 25 of our friends yelled and cheered for us. They'd been worried about us sailing in the bad weather and were happy we'd made it in one piece. It was a very special feeling to come into a new country and already have many friends that were happy to see us. We spend the night at the Q dock so we could check in in the morning. Several of our friends' boats were also at the Q dock and Ogopogo came in an hour or two later. Although we were on a floating dock, separated from all the boats that had already checked in, we were able to stretch our legs and take a walk on the dock. Although the air was cold, we slept like babies when we went to bed because we were securely tied to the dock.

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