Sailaway Sarantium

The staff at Riverside Marina and Boatyard have been absolutely fantastic! From helping me get settled into my slip to hauling out the boat, they’ve been incredibly helpful, always willing to lend a hand, answer questions, and offer advice. I couldn’t have asked for a better start to this next chapter of my boating adventure.

Now, the real work begins — and so does the ever-growing to-do list!

My list seems to grow daily, or perhaps I should say nightly, as I lie awake thinking about all the details involved in getting this refit underway. There’s certainly no shortage of projects to tackle on a 32-year-old boat!

First up, I’ll need to pull the mast for maintenance. Then there’s the job of removing the cabin sole to replace both the water tank and holding tank. I also want to add a structure to accommodate additional solar panels, raise the davits, replace a winch, and remove a couple of through-hull fittings that are no longer needed and properly fill the openings.

And that’s just the beginning! The furling boom needs some TLC, including re-tapping threads and replacing fasteners, along with a seemingly endless collection of smaller jobs that come with owning and maintaining an older boat.

When I look at the list as a whole, it can feel a little overwhelming — especially when I start adding up the potential costs! But despite the long list of jobs, the time involved, and the money that will undoubtedly be spent, I’m genuinely excited to get started. There’s something satisfying about improving, updating, and breathing new life into a boat that has already given me so many years of adventure. I know there will be challenges along the way, but hopefully, each completed project will bring me one step closer to the boat I envision.

Of course, life here in New Zealand can’t be all about boat projects!

On a more fun note, I’ve bought a bike and am in the process of buying a van to use while I’m here. I’m looking forward to exploring the surrounding area, getting out and about, and enjoying everything New Zealand has to offer beyond the marina. I also joined a small gym here across the road, who offers a mixture of strength training, yoga, access to ice dipping and sauna use!

The challenge will be finding the right balance between working on the boat and making time for adventures on land. It would be easy to spend every waking hour working through that ever-growing list, but I want to make sure I take advantage of this opportunity to explore, meet people, and enjoy the experience of being here.

So, the plan is to work hard, tackle the projects one at a time, try not to get too carried away with the budget, and remember to take a break now and then!

The refit journey is officially underway. There’s a lot to do, plenty to learn, and no doubt a few surprises waiting for me along the way. But I’m excited to see what I can accomplish — and even more excited about the adventures that lie ahead.

Let the refit begin!

As planned, I left the marina and dropped anchor just a few minutes away, settling in for a quiet night on the water. No need for my traditional ANKARDRAM (a shot). This is when dropping the hook after a longer sail! In my case it’s always Jägermeister.

By morning, a gentle breeze was rippling across the bay. It was one of those mornings when staying put seemed almost a waste, so I thought, why not hoist the sails and see where the wind takes me? After all, the Bay of Islands is famous for its countless little anchorages, and from where I sat, there seemed to be one around every half a nautical mile!

I slipped out into the channel and sailed for about an hour before dropping the hook again. The incoming current was building, and I would have been fighting it for the next four hours. No point battling the tide when there was a perfectly good anchorage just ahead!

Around 1300, the current finally went slack, and the breeze began to fill in. Time to get moving again! I hauled up the anchor, which came out caked in thick, sticky mud, and set sail eastwards, weaving my way through the little islands scattered across the bay. With the wind picking up and the islands sliding past, it was exactly the sort of spontaneous sailing day I love.

A few friends were planning to spend the night in Otiao Bay, so I decided to make that my destination. When I arrived, “Tiger Lilly,” a family of three from Brazil, was already anchored there, with “Luka”, also a family of three, from Lithuania, dropping in just behind me. Before long, we had gathered on “Tiger Lilly” in the sheltered bay. I had my Ankardram!

The evening unfolded just as these sailing days should. We shared stories, enjoyed some delicious smoked mahi-mahi washed down with a little wine, and made the most of the company. Later, we headed ashore for a hike, stretching our legs on solid ground after another day spent afloat.

Tomorrow, it’s time to keep moving south towards Whangārei, exploring the coast and stopping wherever an anchorage catches my eye. There are so many places to discover along this stretch of coastline, and with a bit of wind, who knows where I’ll end up next?

That’s the beauty of sailing here: sometimes you have a destination in mind, but the best days are the ones when you simply let the wind decide.

”Overall Risk Profile: The fatality rate for recreational sailing sits at roughly 1.19 deaths per million sailing person-days. Statistically, this makes offshore sailing comparable in risk to in-bounds alpine skiing or snowboarding.”

• ”Lack of Safety Harnesses: A review of recent sailing deaths found that a large portion of offshore MOB fatalities occurred because sailors decided against clipping into their safety harnesses during relatively calm conditions or for quick, routine tasks on deck (like checking the foredeck or clearing a line).” I always wear my harness. I very seldom go on deck….and NEVER without my harness. This is basic sailing smarts!
• The “Calm Sea” Paradox: Counterintuitively, 90% of recreational MOB fatalities occur in calm weather and seas under 1 foot. Sailors lower their guard when conditions seem safe, making them vulnerable to a sudden jibe, a stumble, or a boat lurch.” I have two jibe preventers in place on both sides of the boat at all times! There is a very low chance that the boat will accidentally jibe.

The dream had lived in me for years, but choosing to pursue it solo meant facing more than the dangers of the ocean. It also meant facing the doubts of friends and family, often expressed through comments like, “You’re not going to do that,” or, “I hope she knows what she’s doing.” Even when those words come from love and concern, they can quietly persuade us to abandon dreams we have only just begun to say out loud.

For me, those comments created doubt. But they didn’t stop me.

I bought the boat, prepared her for offshore sailing, and set out to leave Canada aboard Sarantium alone.

I believe this is one of the biggest reasons more women don’t pursue challenges like this. Concern, even when it comes from the best intentions, can make women question whether they belong in spaces and adventures traditionally seen as belonging to men.

I chose to ignore most of those conversations and comments. Instead, I listened to the few people who saw the part of me that was capable.

By the time I arrived in Victoria, however, I had reached out to potential crew and secured two women to join me for the voyage.

Looking back, I think my decision came down to the nervousness I feel every time before I pull up the anchor and hoist the sails. That feeling is normal. It reflects an awareness that being alone on the vast ocean comes with limitations and dangers. I have enormous respect for the sea.

It wasn’t that I lacked confidence in myself. It was that I didn’t yet fully trust that confidence.

Perhaps I had absorbed the indirect doubts of the people around me and didn’t know where to place my own nervousness about leaving Canada as a solo sailor.

Since then, I’ve met enough women sailing solo to recognize that my experience is not unique. I’ve learnt that nervousness is normal and that, rather than holding me back, it can make me a more diligent sailor.

I’ve learnt that I can make sound decisions, trust my love of learning, and rely on the support around me when I need help with something beyond my knowledge or abilities.

To be brutally honest, I’ve learned that solo sailing is far better and much safer than sailing with people who aren’t a good fit. When I’m alone, I can focus on the tasks, the boat, and myself. I don’t have to manage a crew, justify my decisions to others, or let others affect my mood and emotions. While island hopping, this isn’t a problem. However, when crossing oceans, managing my own sleep, nutrition, the boat, and navigation leaves little energy for socializing or having discussions and or worse arguing about my decisions as the captain.

People often ask me, don’t you get lonely? I can honestly say that I’ve never felt lonely underway. However, once I’m on anchor and in one place that’s when I crave company.

So here I am in New Zealand. I’ve sailed with crew, and I’ve sailed solo. The leg I was most nervous about was from Tonga to New Zealand.

I sailed it solo.

From here on, I’m no longer going to look for crew because I think I need them. I’ll happily welcome family and friends aboard to share some fun sailing amongst the islands, or meet me in beautiful anchorages for a piña colada.

I’ve come a long way from the woman who wondered whether she could trust herself enough to do this.

Now I know I can.

I have reached the end of the South Pacific, and the dream is still unfolding. 🌊⛵️

I’ve sailed approximately 8,500 nautical miles from Nanaimo, British Columbia, Canada, to the Sea of Cortez, Mexico. From there, I travelled to the Marquesas Islands, the Toumotus, Tahiti, Cook Islands, Tonga, the Republic of Minerva and finally the North Island of New Zealand.

Thanks for reading!

Three Days in New Zealand

This is long overdue! I’ve already spent three relaxing days in New Zealand, and what a welcome it has been.

Checking in with customs was a breeze. Two officers greeted me at the quarantine dock with paperwork and questions. Since they already had my pre-approved arrival documents, the whole interaction was quick and easy.

I know I’ve said this before, but it’s worth mentioning again: New Zealanders are genuinely friendly. Whether I’m interacting with port authorities, customs officers, or biosecurity staff, everyone has been welcoming, professional, and witty.

One of the officers shared that he had lived on Mudge Island, BC, for a few years as a child. Even crazier, we share the same birthday and birth year. What are the odds?

After customs, biosecurity officers came aboard to inspect the boat. Their main concerns were eggs, pork, shells, and wood. Once I had officially cleared into New Zealand, I motored over to the marina, tied Sarantium up at the dock, and finally got a good night’s sleep.

For the past three nights, I’ve averaged 9.5 hours of sleep per night. That’s a far cry from the 3.5 hours I was averaging each night during the crossing from Tonga to Opua, New Zealand.

The rest has given me time to reflect on how fortunate I was with my timing. Perhaps I planned it well after all. As well, using the information from MET BOB, and hours of discussions with other solo sailors. Cruisers who arrived just four days before me encountered nasty weather, with one boat dismasted and another rolling over. Meanwhile, the cruisers arriving now, four days after me, have also been dealing with high winds and a tough sail. Sometimes, it really does come down to timing, good research, and staying put when others leave.

With the crossing behind me, I’ve been enjoying life ashore and exploring the coastline. I’ve walked along public trails that pass through private property, and people have waved from their windows or stopped gardening to say hello and ask questions when they hear my foreign accent.

I love the way people here seem to embrace the idea that, even when land is privately owned, everyone should be able to enjoy trails that run along the coast above the high-tide line. People seem genuinely happy to share their surroundings. There are no gates, no fences, and no “KEEP OUT” signs.

It got me thinking: when we have more than we need, why not share it?

I’ve also been out for a meal every night, catching up with sailors I’ve met along the way, including fellow cruisers from Nanaimo, BC. It’s been wonderful to reconnect, swap stories, and enjoy some time on the docks.

I have two more nights at the dock before making my way to Whangārei. Once there, I’ll haul out Sarantium and begin tackling a long list of major projects: taking down the mast and boom, replacing the tanks and chainplates, installing new solar panels, and much more.

For now, I’m back to watching the weather and waiting for the right window. This time, though, it’s only a one-day voyage. After the crossing from Tonga, that sounds pretty manageable!

For the moment, I’m enjoying the sleep, the friendly faces, the coastal walks, and the feeling of finally being able to stay put for a few months. New Zealand by boat has made a wonderful first impression

It’s been a slow journey aside from the first three days where I had stellar wind. Forecast says wind is going to pick up slightly tonight and rain is expected.

Tankers and cargo ships are starting to show up on my AIS (automatic identification system) so I know a major port, in this case Auckland, is close by! I’ll stay awake most of the night to keep a look out!

33°52.904S 174°15.342E

Speed: 5.0kn Course: 244°

Out- and Excited!

Apart from sailing, the week has been one for the memory bank! They say bad things come in three!!!

Well, today was the third…

But I am going to rewind four days. I was doing my usual walk around checking rigging and sails before sunset, when I noticed a broken piece on my boom attachment. See pic below! Since this piece (one of four holding points) is broken off the only thing is to lash it tight around the mast. Fixed! I emailed the Schaefer manufacturer and they are sending new boom parts to New Zealand at no cost to me! ❤️🙏🏽

One day later the water melon knocked AIS and VHF connections off and left me in a panic before finding the solution. The culprit; the rolling water melon.

🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉

And today I could hear a funny noise while motoring. I opened the engine door and saw black threaded pieces under the engine… the alternator belt still had enough width left it might have been ok to leave in place and keep going, however, since it was a no-wind day I decided to change the belt! Trying to find my spare one was the most difficult task; digging through all nooks and crannies. Once found, removed the old one, tried to figure out the problem, and boat is motoring again towards New Zealand! Never a dull moment!

I’ll have to keep an eye on the alignment of pulleys and anything loose as it should not have worn and threaded like that!

Ps. MetBob (hired metrologist) says “wind is coming”….

Wind indeed picked up and the rest of today, was 🥰 lovely!

Goodnight!

…. I have had some wind in the sails. Last night wind dropped to 2-4 knots. Not all that bad with a sunset like this….

I tried to float and bob around, and even sleep sleep a little. Around 01.00 I gave up and turned the key, and pointed the bow to Opua, New Zealand. I went below and fell asleep. I woke up to a stunning “moonset”!

Sarantium had taken me 30 nautical miles closer to NZ over night. I made coffee and wrote my log! Wind is scheduled 😊 to pick up again this afternoon from the east. If Mother Nature cooperates I will sail right close to New Zealand on a beam reach. Wind then changes to a northerly at that point and I should be able to sail into Opua on a broad reach. Fingers crossed!

Sun and No Rain

And sail angle is decent!!!

And I am getting used to sleeping well!

My Ais and VHF stopped working (PANIC) so I’ve been tracing wires all morning (and checking fuses) back to where my netting (above the helm) where my watermelon lives. Turns out the watermelon has been rolling around and knocked the connector and disconnected wires … tossed the water melon overboard and fixed the problem.