Finally visiting the Bay of Islands

We didn’t make it very far once we got our 2025 sailing season started. Literally only 2 miles was an anchorage (1) we needed to use. Needed. There are a limited number of anchorages one can clean the bottom of a boat in, and none are much further out into the greater Bay of Islands area. And with how much sea life had accumulated on Meriwether’s bottom during the two-plus month stay in Opua, we were only able to go 2.5 knots even a full steam. So, it took nearly an hour, but we made it the 2 miles to said anchorage and there we stayed for three days and nights. Three multi-hour dives took place – one each day, followed by a healthy nap – to clean as much as I could. It was as dirty as Meriwether has ever been, much of which was razor sharp barnacles which quickly reminded me – in a painful way – to wear gloves. If there is a lesson I have learned, and forget too often, it is to not get into a fist fight with a barnacle.

Eventually Meriwether’s bottom was clean enough to move on to more exotic locations. It was a beautiful day to sail, so we hauled out the sails and got straight to it, gently working our way up into the islands of the Bay of Islands. Along the way we navigated past two cruise ships, hundreds of other personal water crafts, and even a paraglider. This place was seriously hopping, and I was quite enjoying the more complex sailing through traffic. Kerri, not so much. At least we did not have an ocean swell, and that was all that mattered to me. Calm waters, sunlight, and a good breeze made for a nice two and a half hour sail to Paradise Cove (2) on Urupukapuka Island.

Urupukapuka Island is the largest island in the Bay of Islands. It is extremely popular as it has many miles of beautiful hiking trails, archeological sites, nature camping, numerous bays to anchor, and it is a stop over for the local tour-boat traffic on their way to visit “Hole in the Rock” not too much further down the water. We arrived to the most boats in an anchorage we have seen since we were in the Puget Sound on the Fourth of July weekend. It was a bit of a shock after a year crossing the Pacific where three to six other boats in the same atoll was the norm. Now we see dozens per anchorage, and many are swimming, paddling, or riding to the beaches and having a merry time. It is summer here, so this all makes sense once past the shock of it all.

We joined in on the fun by hitting the trails ourselves. Two days in a row we got out to hike a bit. Up and down the hilly terrain, sometimes in the shade of the trees (where there is no breeze) and other times in the glaring sunlight (where you might find a breeze at least). There was a lot of sweating going on amongst us both, but it felt good to get out and explore a bit after months of sitting around waiting for this or that to happen (mostly weather). But something was off.

It wasn’t until the end of the second day that I was able to pinpoint this weird feeling that I was getting while hiking. I kept saying, “this place feels empty” or “there is nothing here”, both of which are false. There are huge scenic views, full of awe and glory to those unjaded. Birds sing and chirp around every corner. The ocean’s dull sounds below keep us company at all times. But that odd feeling was still there. There are no squirrels. No deer. No pigs. No rabbits. No mammals at all. It took a google search to find out that there are in fact no native land mammals in all of New Zealand. This was that huge empty feeling in the back of my head that I could not place; nothing was going to jump out of the forest at us, not even an angry squirrel. The only mammals we saw during our two days of hiking where the sheep brought here by white man. There is, of course, a huge issue with rodents on these islands. The signage at each beach warned that no dogs were allowed, but it took us for a loop when those same signs told us we could not walk our pet rats here either. Until we read why. They are not native, and for some reason we whities thought it smart to bring them here to destroy the ecosystem.

After four days of adventuring on Urupukapuka Island we decided to make a move. Just 1.5 miles away was the smaller island of Moturua Island (3) which offered us protection from the wind forecast to come from a different direction the next couple days. We raised anchor, rolled out the head sail, and shut down the Perkins to enjoy a few minutes of quiet sailing. On top of the wish for quiet, there is still a bit of weariness about the engine/transmission so we are trying to use it as little as possible this season.

Moturua Island offered up yet another trail that mostly circumnavigated the land mass, offering more views into the greater bay as well as a ruin or two. Again, there was no wildlife other than birds and insects which continued to give off a very eerie vibe while hiking.

This rounded out our first proper week of sailing in 2025 and in the Bay of Islands. With 2 months stuck on a dock, we both felt the need to learn how to sail again, so these short trips gave us a soft re-entry to the skills. It is damn nice to be out from the marina again, but just as we were getting accustomed to the freedom, reality came over to kick us in the collective family jewels. We needed more parts and repairs before we could continue on properly, so back we went.