The excitement helped wake us and anticipation made the trip through rain and dark go faster.
We were all on edge, not knowing what we would find when we finally boarded the yacht. Three months of organisation, repairs, impatience and paying invoices were coming to an end.
We were about to learn the challenges of buying a boat unseen. Our decision was determined by COVID. Without Steve's long hours of research, phone calls and organisation we would still be dreaming of purchase.
Tweed River appeared as sunrise bathed the place in damp light. The rain eased and we waited for a glimpse of sails.
We were happy! Our boat bought unseen was up to scratch. Steve and John inspected sails, rigging, GPS etc while we absorbed the living space.
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| She is looking great |
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| The smile says it all. |
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| View into cockpit from downstairs |
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| Moving aboard. Ready for overnight sail. |
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| The saloon and ships bell |
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| Yours truly trying on life jacket for bar crossing. |
"Time and tide wait for no man."
So we had to navigate the bar on the Tweed while the tide was high. Time was not on our side.
We waved farewell to Lisa. Steve took the helm for the first time.
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| Steve at helm |
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| John at the helm. |
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| Sailing |
Our plans had included weather forecast of northerly winds. "Best made plans..." and all that, the wind was from the south! Not what we had foreseen. Not what we had anticipated or welcomed. Steve persevered with setting sails, traveling at a comfortable nine knots. Our progress was great, only our destination was Coffs, not New Zealand.
We had to resign ourselves to motoring, not sailing. Our ETA changed from sixteen hours to twenty four hours.
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| Steve at the helm, John catnapping while opportunity lasts. |
Divine Wind motored well. Comfortable, she rode over or through the ever increasing waves. The Perkins engine purred, but our disappointment at not sailing dampened spirits. The rain eased but the wind didn't let up for a moment.
Steve and John discovered a few minor problems. The GPS, auto navigation, wind speed and compass refused to work. Great start. Steve had charts on his phone but was not happy about needing to rely on them.
My phone took the opportunity to die. Just stopped charging and smelt of burning. So diary videos and photos were not happening.
Mid afternoon-early evening we were still motoring. Everyone was feeling ok, tired but ready for an overnight haul through heavy seas.
The wind could/should/please do calm down after sunset.
What was doable during the daylight became more of a challenge in the dark. The wind strengthened rather than settling. The rain decided to keep us company. The sea's confusion increased and manning the helm became and exhausting challenge.
At midnight the lights of Yamba looked encouraging. At 3am they were finally in the rear view. North Solitary and Woolgoolga were welcome beacons.
John and Steve took shifts, one hour on, one hour trying to cat nap. Rain, spray, salt laden wind, every surface, every inch of the upper deck was damp and regularly drenched. Our new coats were very welcome. Nothing too 'over the top' at all. They might look unnecessarily heavy and waterproof on a sunny afternoon, but at 3am in a driving wind, rain, and pounding seas every ounce of water proofing and protection was welcome.
4am. We finally sailed within sight of South Solitary Lighthouse. The twinkling lights of Coffs loomed in the distance. The last leg of our journey had begun. Divine Wind had the bit between her teeth and was bolting for the harbour.
Or so we thought.
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