I went for a run (that opportunity won’t come again soon) and then took my gold coins to the marina shower block to treat myself before we set forth. White walls, blue partitions and grey floor greet me with their plain, functional sensibility. Taking a freshwater shower on passage is a luxury rarely afforded and when it happens, it is brief and clinical. Water is such a precious resource and needs to be managed with reverence. In the tropics, where water was scarce even for land dwellers, a salt water wash off the back of the boat was the norm. In New Zealand, topping up water was easier (a good thing given the dramatically lower sea temperatures) so we could indulge a little. But nothing like my indulgence today. I am gleefully in possession of two $2 coins, and my excitement increases as is see the sign saying that we now get five minutes of hot water for each coin rather than the four minutes it used to be. So, for five minutes I drift into a blissful world, singing My Favourite Things from The Sound of Music (I have the showers to myself). After what seems to me to be a showering eternity, the water goes cold. I look at the second $2 and wonder if I dare such levels of luxury. I weigh it up against the certain discomfort that will come my way in varying levels during the passage and quickly slip it into the coin box. I sing for another five minutes.
At Customs, there is no metal detector, no baggage scan, no crowds, we walk into the office and Gary is waiting to accept our departure cards and check our passports. There is something so special about putting SV QuickStar down as my flight number or name of ship. As a citizen of an isolated island, the only practical way to go to another country is on a commercial airline. Making this mammoth journey under our own care over many days is a privilege, not a hardship. QuickStar is our home and she can do amazing things, today is just another day for her. It gives me a sense of independence and control in spite of our exposure to Nature’s whimsy. I can’t lie, I feel good about myself at this point in time. It’s healthy to reflect positively on our achievements, and this is one of them.
Once we clear out it is like drawing the go to jail card in Monopoly: Go directly from New Zealand, do not drop anchor, do not collect any supplies. There is no turning back now. The rain of the last few days has eased and there are signs of sun. The forecast is for thunderstorms, but as we pull out of the Bay of Islands the sun emerges, our boat dries out, and brilliant colours emerge from the grey. Blues and greens are all around us and we revel in the calm waters. More wind would be ideal, but already the day is exceeding our expectations. The sun lifts the spirits of all the crew as we make for open waters. Past familiar sights we go, the Cavalli Islands, Whangaroa, and on up the coast. A tuna snaps up our line and puts an end to any discussion there may have been about dinner. We settle into the cockpit with tea to watch the sun set on our first day at sea. We are really on our way now, hoping to round Cape Reinga at sunrise tomorrow, then the land will fade and we will be on our own.