The Stories are Waiting for Us

Biblical. That’s the best word to describe living on a boat in this kind of weather. It’s been raining hard for four days and nights—but it feels like forty. Everything (and I do mean everything) is wet: the new sheepskin pillows and rugs, the bathroom walls, our outerwear, the bed, the towels, and, of course, the entire cockpit—cushions, pillows, and all. Still, like Noah was, we are afloat.

Seeing the low-pressure system in the forecast, we hobbled into Whangārei with two-thirds of Gerty’s mainsail torn to shreds, calling quits a few days earlier than planned.

Now she’s docked at Okara Marina, snug as a bug, just in time for our trip to the South Island—and I’ve got time to write. Yippee!

New Zealand whipped-cream-and-jelly donuts are outstanding, wingfoiling is surprisingly fun (even when you’re as slow a learner as I am), and there’s seemingly no end to how many times an American can mix up “Whangaruru” and “Whangamumu.” It’s an odd collection of tidbits, we may or may not remember.

There is, however, one thing we will definitely won’t forget: meeting Colin and Diane.

The parents of our friends Jacqui and Phil, Colin and Dianne—now 92 and 86—sailed around the world with their children (Phil and his sister) in the 1970s. They were guest voyagers last week aboard SV Skylark, and we were lucky enough to have dinner with them.

“Tell me,” I prompted, and that was plenty to get them started.

Over fish and chips, they piggybacked on each other’s stories, recounting their journey with unbridled enthusiasm. What surprised me was how reassuring their tales were. Captivating, yes—but also comforting. Because, surprise, surprise, in the past fifty years, not that much has changed.

I know, I know—the world has altered in so many ways. But Colin and Dianne made something undeniably clear: adventure, exploration, and discovery are still out there, waiting for us, just as they have been since the beginning of time.

Last remarks

• It’s not just that Whangamumu and Whangaruru sound similar to us and are fun to say. The “Wh” is pronounced “F.”