Helen

Sink or Swim

According to Mr Google, the definition of irony is “the expression of one’s meaning by using language that normally signifies the opposite….”.

It was midnight and, as we fell into bed after another full and exhausting day, I said to Steve, “This was a good day…… nothing went wrong”. Ten minutes later all that changed. But I’ll come to that in a bit, first let me set the scene!

With the autopilot drive unit repaired, returned and installed, we were on track to leave Gosport on Friday 10 July. We said farewell to our Australian friends, Mike and Nicki who had been living on their boat for ten years and were a mine of information and useful advice.

We set off early and sailed around the southern side of The Isle of Wight enjoying the westerly winds as we unfurled the genoa and staysail, making a lovely eight knots as we sped to the south easterly headland. The smile on my face was making my cheeks sore as we cut through the sea and let Cerulean take us for a lovely ride in 15knots of wind on the beam (side of the boat). She loves this wind angle and makes excellent speed giving us a really comfortable ride. We passed The Needles and the wind dropped so we turned on the engine and headed towards Poole. We could see the coast of France to the south with large cruise ships anchored in the mist. As we approached Bournemouth another three cruise ships were mothballed off the coast.

We anchored in Studland Bay – a beautiful bay sheltered from the westerly winds – with a lovely sandy beach and a very popular spot for Solent based sailors. We decided to stay for two nights and allow the stress of the last few weeks be washed away…..! A friend from Cambridge, David Baxter, came to visit us and we enjoyed a very chilled afternoon on the boat and in the local pub overlooking the bay.

The next few days we continued to head west – Warbarrow Bay, where we listened to a man calling the Coastguard after loosing a finger in his anchor winch, rounding the treacherous Portland Bill with strong currents spitting us out the other side of the headland at a rate of over 10knots, a wonderful sail to Beer only to find the swell too much to comfortably anchor so continued to Brixham in Torbay.

We stayed a couple of nights in Brixham before continuing west and after a short sail, we saw the headland of Dartmouth with twin castles guarding each side of the river entrance. It was wonderful to approach this lovely town from the sea and get a feel for what it must’ve been like when the castles were built in the 1400’s to protect this picture postcard town. A chain used to be slung across the river mouth from one castle to the other to protect it from naval attacks.

We made our way up the river and berthed at a floating pontoon overlooking Dartmouth on the Kingswear side of the river. There were a number of other boats sharing the pontoon and we soon created a lovely community, enjoying each others company and sharing stories, boat problems and plans.

After spending the day exploring Dartmouth we returned to the boat and spent a lovely evening boat hopping and saying goodbye as we intended to leave early the next morning to continue our journey west. We returned to the boat and finished our passage plan, entering our intended course in the chart plotter. Feeling tired, we fell into bed and it was then that I said those immortal words…. “Today has been a good day….” Which brings me to the aforementioned irony……

We were both drifting off to sleep when we heard a strange noise. When you hear a strange noise at night on a boat, you are immediately alert and awake. Steve jumped out of bed and I said, “I think it’s just a boat going passed…” I was wrong for the second time in less than 15 minutes! It didn’t take long for Steve to discover the cause of the noise and announce – “It’s not a boat…. We’re taking on water!!” I was up in a shot to discover not a trickle but a fountain of water spurting up through a hole where one of the through hull fittings had become detached and there was now no barrier between us and the gushing water. To make it worse, the fitting had not completely detached and, as we were unsure whether, or what, it was attached to on the outside of the boat, breaking it off was not an option, as we could have made the hole bigger. We keep a large bung beside each through fitting, just in case of failure, but as the fitting was still partially attached, the bung could not be used. We managed to push the fitting back into place and found that if we held it upright, the main flood of water was stemmed. We tied this in place and started pumping the water out the boat, fortunately all the water was in the deep bilges and the rest of the boat stayed dry.

While Steve made sure the temporary repair didn’t move, I called for help. Within 30 minutes the RNLI arrived with three young guys on board. They wore helmets and facemasks so when I went out on deck to meet them and one of them said to me as he climbed on board, “Hello, we met earlier…” I had no idea who he was! On inspecting the damage, they quickly realised that if our temporary repair failed, they didn’t have a pump big enough to keep up with the water in-take so the decision was made to move us to shallower water and close to a haul-out area. As a back-up, in case we started taking on water again, we waited for a crane on a barge to arrive so they could stop us from sinking, if needed, as the lifeboat towed us to a berth beside the haul out area. Fortunately the temporary repair held up and they left us at 4am with a large automatic pump in the bilges and suggested we try and get some sleep before the yard opened and would lift Cerulean out the water.

Less than an hour later, at 5am we were woken from our deep sleep by Ben who organised for us to be hauled out. Ben got us in the sling and hoisted before any of his team arrived. He explained they were exceptionally busy and usually had three boats in/out the water before 10am each day. We were jumping the queue and I think part of him was wondering what the emergency was as we were not taking on a lot of water. When he raised Cerulean out of the water, we were all shocked to see there was nothing left of the outer skin fitting. Ben couldn’t believe we had had new seacocks fitted just six weeks earlier and, after a few phone calls, found us electricians and shipwrights who could fix the boat. By 11am we were back in the water, leaving Ben with a backlog of boats to sort out and schedules to catch up on.

Two lovely young electricians arrived to do the “quick job” Ben had told them about. Boats are complicated – sea water can quickly corrode fittings, and boat parts can be made using different types of metal. To prevent corrosion, boats are fitted with sacrificial zinc anodes which then have electrical contact to ensure the anode gets corroded, not the other metals – don’t ask me how it works, but it does. Until recently it was thought that seacocks should also be protected in a similar way, with electrical currents earthing them to prevent corrosion. This is what had been attempted on Cerulean but, instead of earthing them, someone had made them live, sending currents into the fittings and speeding up their deterioration. It was meant to be a quick fix, but it soon became apparent there were other serious issues with the wiring and finding all the problems was going to take some time. We spent the day tracing and testing wires while struggling to understand exactly what was going on, what had happened and how we could be certain it wouldn’t happen again while fighting the weight of mental and physical exhaustion.

When the electricians left, with a promise to return after the weekend, we returned to the pontoon we had left in the middle of the night. Our friends had heard of our rescue and were very happy for us to raft along side them as the weekend had brought an influx of boats to Dartmouth and moorings were limited. As we pulled up beside one of their boats, they welcomed us back, gently berating us for not waking them to help, and announced there was a big G and T with my name on it! When we climbed on board their boat, I could feel myself relax for the first time in nearly 24hours.

On hearing about our dramas, my sister Bea and Andy decided to drive from Falmouth to give us some much needed moral support and advice. Together with my uncle Tom, in Germany, Andy had educated us about Galvanic Isolators, electrolysis, whether or not to ground seacocks and how to ground anodes. This is essential information for any serious cruiser, but most of these learnings were new to us! Our additional problem, although not related, but co-incidentally happened at the same time, was our alternator had stopped charging the batteries. The alternator, like in a car, will replenish the power in all the boat batteries when the engine is running. As we had been instructed not to plug into shore power until the electricians returned to finish the job, our wind generator was not providing much (if any) power, we were not able to turn on our generator and now the alternator had failed, it meant we had to be really careful with how much power we used over the weekend in order to protect our batteries. As Andy is an electrical engineer, it was wonderful to have them on board and discuss our problems and possible solutions They were also our first over night guests and, after four months in the UK, the first time we had seen each other since we arrived.

Bea and Andy’s stay was over all too quickly. After a quick trip into Dartmouth we moved the boat to a berth in the marina, ready for when the electricians arrived in the morning. It was a relief to be back near a shower, fresh water and easy access to the chandlery so we could get on with other boat jobs while we waited for the electricians.

Once again the electricians arrived thinking they would finish the job in a few hours but ended up working all day. They found a lot of wiring mistakes which they corrected but it was finding them that was the issue – they could see there was a fault but had to trace wires and cables to discover where the problem was located and then correct the mistake. By the end of the day we had a working alternator, new galvanic isolator installed, all seacocks checked and secured and anodes grounded – we were safe and operational again! A huge relief but an expensive one!

At last, we were able to continue our journey west. We left early Tuesday morning on high tide and headed up river to the beautiful village of Dittisham for a quick look before the tide turned. Dittisham was home to Agatha Christie and her lovely little cottage still stands on its own surrounded by woodland on the East side of the river. It is in a beautiful, quiet and peaceful setting and we will return to explore the area more as it is a very special location. We loved our time in Dartmouth and met wonderful people who made our extended stay very special and memorable.

As we headed out of Dartmouth, leaving the two castles on the headland behind us, a gentle wind blew behind us and we set our sails for our journey west.

Sailing and Maintenance crash course

When we purchased her, Cerulean was berthed at Port Solent marina near Portsmouth, which is located at the end of a long meandering channel with a lock that keeps the boats in the marina secure and stops the water from drying out at low tide. One of our first tasks was to move to another marina located at the sea end of the estuary and closer to shops as well as the wonderful sailing grounds of The Solent.

First we had to move the boat out of the very narrow marina berth without hitting any of the large and expensive boats located around us. I was a little nervous about doing this on my first attempt at reversing our new home, but with the help of Jamie from Ancasta Brokers, we gracefully slipped out of the mooring and glided into the lock. Jamie left us once we were safely in the lock and we were left on our own for the first time. It goes without say that handling a 43 ft, 14 tonne, long keeled, high windage boat is quite different to my previous 29ft, light, production boat, so I was nervously excited as we negotiated the winding channel. It is said pride comes before a fall – we were just marvelling at how good it felt to be on our way to starting the dream, when I realised that all the markers indicating the channel had disappeared and the depth had dropped to nothing! I threw the wheel to port and increased the revs on the engine. A cloud of mud indicated we were on the bottom but we made sluggish progress back towards the channel. It was a relief to see the depth increase and our speed pick up – there are two types of sailors, those who have run aground and those who lie about not having done so. We were now baptised on Cerulean!

Gosport Marina is operated by the same company as Port Solent. As it had been Cerulean’s home berth, we were allowed to move there and, as we had no other place of abode in UK, we were given permission to stay on board even though it was not generally permitted under current restrictions. The marina is now considered our home, so we are not allowed to leave for longer than a day sail and we will need to stay until the government relaxes the rules about sleeping away from home – hopefully on 4 July otherwise it will get expensive!

The huge benefit of being in the marina is access to amenities, clean showers and laundry facilities which we regularly avail ourselves of. We spent the first couple of weeks cleaning and organising the boat, getting familiar with the systems and going for day sails, practising our reversing and docking skills and generally settling into life living on a boat. Evening sundowners while lounging in our comfortable and big cockpit, breakfast on the deck and a very comfortable bed made the transition incredibly easy.

Our first solo sail was perfect. Cerulean glided through the water on a broad reach in 15knots of wind, getting up to 8 knots in speed – ok, it won’t win us any races, but not bad for a big heavy boat with only 2/3 of the available sails used. Returning to the berth, we celebrated with a G&T and as the sun set we ceremoniously removed the Union Jack ensign and “London” lettering from the stern as Cerulean has been de-registered as a UK vessel and is now a fully-fledged kiwi boat!

Over the next few days we completed numerous boat jobs, including cataloguing everything on board so we knew what we had and where it was stored. Every night we go to bed exhausted after a full day of physical work but with a real sense of achievement.

Jason is a friend of my sister, Lynn, and he is an RYA sailing instructor. Jason had offered to help us get to know Cerulean, go through her sail wardrobe and teach us the best way to handle her. We had a great day practicing Man Overboard (MOB), reefing, using the autopilot, getting in and out of the marina berth, turning in a tight space and picking up mooring buoys. We had practiced picking up the mooring buoy three times and had three very successful attempts so our confidence was high as I turned Cerulean hard to port with the engine on, to get out of the cluttered mooring area and back into the busy channel. Suddenly the wheel locked and, confused as to what was happening, I checked to see whether I had run over a mooring line. There was no evidence of this, so I threw the boat out of gear and yelled to Steve and Jason that I had lost steerage. I wondered whether I had accidently engaged the autopilot but the instrument panel by the wheel did not respond when I tried to disengage so I assumed it was not on. We were heading towards a boat on a mooring and, although I put the engine into reverse to try and avoid an impact, we continued heading towards the small boat as the strong tide swept us, out of control, towards the vessel. The crunching sound of our boat hitting the other yacht will haunt me for some time. Steve and Jason tried to soften the blow by fending off at the bow, to lessen the damage. While all this was going on, I was trying to figure out what had happened. I ran below deck and switched off the autopilot from the main switchboard. When I returned to the wheel, it was turning freely again – at least we had our steering back, but when I turned off the master switch, all our other instruments were turned off – GPS (navigation), depth sounder and wind instruments. At least with the autopilot turned off at the main switch, I was confident it would not automatically re-engage again so we were able to cast off the damaged boat on the mooring buoy, take photos of the damage and mooring buoy number and return to the marina. I felt sick leaving a boat I had been responsible for damaging and my legs were shaking as my confidence suffered a huge knock after such a wonderful day full of highs – Jason suggested we tried some other manoeuvres to build my confidence up again before returning to the marina.

We discovered the damaged boat was on a mooring owned by a neighbouring boat yard but by the time we visited them, the office was closed so we needed to wait until morning to report the accident. The next day we returned to the boat yard office and asked for help finding the owners of the boat. Incredibly it turned out the owners had arrived at their boat that morning, discovered the damage and had already brought the boat in to the yard to start the repairs. We met the owners who were just lovely and very understanding and forgiving. I still felt awful as they had arrived at the boat hoping to enjoy the beautiful weather on the hottest day of the year so far, to discover a damaged rig and railings with no idea who had done it or what had happened. They were very grateful we had found them, owned up to the accident and agreed to pay for the repairs – I don’t understand why people would not be honest but, judging by the number of people who thanked us, it appears to be a common problem.

The staff at both the Premier Marinas in Gosport and Port Solent are wonderful – helpful, supportive, friendly and knowledgeable. They recommended a marine electrical engineer who could help with our Raymarine autopilot issue and on Wednesday morning a lovely man called Mike(www.oceanelectronics.co.uk) came to investigate the problem. He was very interested in trying to discover the reason why our self steering had automatically engaged as he had heard of this fault happening once before, but as it was extremely rare he seemed intrigued to look at the offending instrument! Mike had previously worked for Raymarine so was very familiar with the equipment we had installed. He discovered that the drive unit, that attaches to the steering cable, needed servicing and told us that, although the autopilot was old, it was definitely worth keeping as it was a solid, usually reliable, piece of equipment. Although the autopilot was old, the GPS and other equipment, were replaced four years ago and it appeared were overdue a software update. This could have added to the problem we experienced. Mike suggested we have the steering checked as he felt there was too much play in the wheel and recommended a local firm who he called for us and arranged for them to come the next day. In the meantime, we removed the offending drive unit, packaged it up and couriered it to Raymarine for servicing.

The next day Carl came to visit to check on the steering. Another really lovely, helpful and friendly technician! He wanted a second opinion, so contacted a colleague, Bob who arrived 30 minutes later. The two of them crouched side by side, squeezing their heads into the narrow aft locker, turning the wheel from one side to the other trying to find the source of the problem! After about 20 minutes the problem was found and, for once, was an easy fix with a replacement split pin. They did not want to send an invoice for such a small job so we called into their office later and dropped off the agreed GBP20 – a bargain!

As Cerulean is a big boat to manoeuvre, and is not a great boat to reverse as she has a lot of windage, she is fitted with bow thrusters – an engine and propeller at the front of the boat – that, when engaged, will quickly turn the front of the boat to keep it heading in the right direction. We had been having issues as the power was lost from the thrusters after just one or two quick bursts. This made getting into and out of the marina quite nerve wracking as there was little room for error if the turn into the berth was misjudged or the wind/tide carried the boat off course. On investigation we discovered the batteries were completely dead so ordered two new ones which were delivered the next day. With the new batteries installed, we were excited to check them before heading out for a sail with a friend, Marion – our first social sail visitor. Upon testing the bowthruster and anchor winch (which had previously worked when the engine was turned on), we discovered neither were now working, even with the engine on. We decided to go for a quick sail and enjoy the lovely weather so spent a lovely few hours with Marion, sailing on the Solent.

Later that day, after a few phone calls to my uncle Tom and brother-in-law, Andy, we discovered the batteries had been connected incorrectly and, although everything worked when they were re-installed, it appeared the alternator was now not working as the power surge caused by the mistake, had damaged it! This meant we could not go out for a sail until the alternator was fixed to try and avoid any other knock on problems. Luckily we found a spare alternator on the boat but considering our earlier electrical error, we quickly came to the conclusion that fitting this was beyond our very limited technical abilities!

After the lovely sail with Marion at the end of the week, the weather at the weekend deteriorated dramatically and strong winds buffeted us for three days – we recorded 30knots wind speed in the shelter of the marina, so going out for a sail would not only have been unpleasant but probably foolhardy! We had arranged for my wonderful friends and family, Paul, Wendy, Jocs and Bella, to visit on Sunday and we shared a lovely lunch while sitting below catching up. Not quite the experience I wanted to share with them but a great catch up, none the less! One of the wonderful things about Cerulean is her large spacious deck saloon which allows up to seven people to sit around the table and two more either side of the chart table while still enjoying 360 degree views of the outside – one of many of the features that appealed to us about this lovely boat.

Boris Johnson announced more restrictions would be lifted on Saturday 4 July, allowing overnight stays on boats which means we can start looking forward to leaving the marina and heading west. The only delay will be the return of the autopilot part which should be returned by 9 July at the latest. Fortunately the marina has agreed to allow us to extend our stay on a daily basis, so the urgency to leave is not governed by a lack of a marina berth and we are able to leave when we are ready, and not before.

Each day we feel we take two steps forward but one back – some days it does feel like one step forward and two back – but we are learning a lot and know the mistakes we make now will only ensure they are mistakes not made again! We remain focused, excited and, although we are finding each day exhausting, we are loving the life we have chosen.

Sea Trial and Survey Hurdles

Our sea trial was due to take place on Saturday 6 June – a date we had set weeks earlier when we had decided we needed to have something to aim for. Now, as the restrictions for moving around the UK had been lifted, everything looked like it was lining up for the sea trial to continue. Well, that’s what we hoped but we had a problem…! Restrictions were lifted for travel with no limit on distance, as long as it did not include an overnight stay, but travel had to be in a private vehicle. Trains were still running on a limited service but were meant for essential travel only. We could possibly justify using the train but the journey involved a three hour trip each way, and meant we would have huge time constraints on the sea trial – something we wanted to avoid. Hire car companies were still closed and, while we investigated getting a Zipcar (like uber but hire cars by the hour/day), we could not arrange the required membership card to be delivered in time for Saturday.

Our saviour came in the form of an old friend, Marion, who lives close to where we are staying. She very generously offered us the use of her car and arranged the necessary insurance to enable us to collect the vehicle on Friday and return by Monday morning.

The weather was changing and it soon became clear that Saturday was not going to be the best day for a sea trial. As much as I would love to have seen how Cerulean handled in a gale, it was not ideal weather to get her out of a tight marina and long channel. Sunday looked like it was going to be a better day with light winds.

Sunday morning we left early to make sure we were in Port Solent to meet the broker, Sam, at 10am. We were early and spent some time wandering around the boatyard looking at the boats on the hard – it’s a regular pastime for boatowners to compare, dream and learn!

When Cerulean was relaunched a few days earlier, we had arranged for the final surveys to be completed – Boat, engine and rigging. The boat survey had not brought to light anything more than those already reported in the out of water inspection and some of those more pressing issues had already been resolved. The engine survey was not as encouraging. The marine engineer was very disparaging of the engine and reported back to us that, due to the age, engine hours and condition he recommended we replace it before heading off-shore. We had sat on this information for a few days, letting the enormity of this news settle in. We considered walking away from the purchase as we had previously highlighted an unreliable engine as a dealbreaker. Steve and I had spent a long afternoon crunching numbers, discussing different scenarios, researching engines and looking at other boats for sale. At the end of this we had decided it was worth proceeding with the purchase of Cerulean and fit a new engine in November before heading off-shore in early 2021.

When we arrived at Cerulean we found her to be just as beautiful as we remembered her from our last visit three months earlier. Richard and Alison welcomed us on board while ensuring we all kept the required distance from each other. Fortunately the cockpit is large enough for several people to keep the required 2m apart, so we were able to comfortably and happily fit!

Richard manoeuvred us out of the very tight berth – a prospect I found extremely daunting on my first time behind the wheel – and into the lock that separates Port Solent Marina from the channel leading to The Solent. As we were not far from slack tide, it did not take us long to get through the lock and start navigating the windy channel towards Portsmouth and out into the popular sailing ground of The Solent – the busy stretch of water between The Isle of White and the mainland. This piece of water is usually extremely busy with pleasure craft but there were not too many around on the day – probably due to the bad weather the previous day and restrictions still in place regarding sleeping on boats. The stretch of water is still busy with cargo ships, ferries, hovercraft and navy ships. We watched the aircraft carrier, HMS Queen Elizabeth, leave Portsmouth, closing the harbour entrance to all boats for 45 minutes as she made her way into The Solent and headed East. HMS Queen Elizabeth is the largest, newest and most powerful ship in the Royal Navy. She accommodates 40 aircraft, a 4 acre flight deck, is 280m long and is home to up to 1600 crew. It was quite a sight coming out of the port!

I spent most of the sea trial on the helm (those of you that know me, won’t be surprised at this. Steve often comments that it will take a crowbar to prise my hands off the wheel), and I could hardly keep the smile off my face. Cerulean is light on the helm, sails well and has the benefit of a good sail plan using the double option of Genoa and Staysail (for my non-sailing friends, these are both at the front of the boat!) as well as a cruising chute however we didn’t put the chute up on this occasion.

We had not yet mentioned the issue with the engine to Richard and we were still waiting for the riggers survey, although we were aware that a couple of stays (support the mast) were in need of urgent attention and Richard had arranged for these to be replaced immediately. After a couple of hours sailing in light winds, we headed back towards the marina and, following a direct question from Richard, we let him know the result of the engine survey. Both Richard and Alison were surprised but not dismissive of the news while still extoling the reliability and smooth running of the current engine.

By the end of the sea trial we were totally convinced that Cerulean was the right boat – Once we were off the boat and walking back to the car, I think my words were “I absolutely LOVE her…” and the thought of us owning such a beautiful boat was making me dizzy with excitement! That headiness continued until the next morning when we received the riggers survey and all of a sudden the heights of our excitement came crashing down to an equally spiralling low. The rigger provided a report that identified over 35 areas of concern with the mast, spreaders and running rigging, recommending we take the mast down so the full extent of the problems could be assessed. The enormity of this was enough for our spirits to come crashing down – if we needed a new mast, which the rigger was suggesting as a possibility, this could cost in the region of GBP20 – 30k and when considered on top of the new engine, would take the boat costs outside our budgeted spend. We called Sam, the broker, and let him know what was happening so we could have more time to think things through. We needed to think with our head, not heart and that needed time so we could clearly identify the reasons not to buy the boat, instead of focusing on why we should. It was hard and Steve and I kept to-ing and fro-ing on our decision. After a day of deliberation we decided that, providing Richard was prepared to further negotiate on the price, we would take the risk with the mast and hope that once we unstepped it in the autumn we would find the mast was still sound and just need a few thousand spent on it and not 10’s of thousands, as we feared.

By Tuesday evening we had reached an agreement on price and we were able to celebrate, finally being the owners of this beautiful vessel by opening a bottle of bubbles and sharing it with our neighbour, Lawrence in the garden. We let the realisation sink in – not only had we secured the boat we were going to take halfway around the world, but she will also be our home for the next few years. It was time to pack our bags, book train tickets and prepare to move onto our new home at the weekend.

On Saturday we woke early and did a final clean of piers and Jenni’s house before dragging our six bags down the road to the train station. Surprisingly everything went incredibly smoothly and three trains later we found ourselves in Gosport waiting for a taxi to take us to the marina. We must’ve looked an odd sight, two weary people dragging three suitcases (suitcases on boats is considered a cardinal sin) and three other bags, negotiating the floating pontoons until finding Cerulean moored nose first in the middle of one of the finger pontoons. It felt so good to be on board, knowing she was now our home and we could finally unpack our belongings and start planning for the start of our adventure.

Sunshine, Survey and Scandal

England is not known for its weather, but fortunately for us (and everyone else conforming to lockdown), this spring has been exceptionally warm, dry and sunny. Our days started to fall into a comfortable routine of having a lazy morning, culminating in a late brunch outside enjoying casual conversation and occasional catch up with our neighbour, Lawrence over the high fence. In the early afternoon we would normally do some baking and go for a walk which, following the slight easing of lockdown restrictions in early May, meant we were allowed to stay out all day and travel as far as we wanted, providing we were back home to sleep and did not break our bubble.

I was determined to make a difference in Piers and Jenni’s backyard so have been rediscovering my green fingers! My sister, Bea, sent me a package of various vegetable seeds and I started a small nursery in the sunny front porch. Each morning I took great delight watching the progress of the seeds, getting huge satisfaction as my lettuce, courgettes, tomatoes, runner beans and capsicums started showing the first signs of life and slowly uncurling to a display of small leaves and shoots.

I diligently moved them to the backyard as the morning sun moved further West so the plants could get the benefit of a full days growth in the warm spring sunshine. At this rate, we’ll be enjoying some of the fruits of my gardening labour!

Following Boris Johnston’s announcement that England was to start to move from Level 4 to Level 3 restrictions there was a lot of confusion around what that actually meant and what was allowed and what was still not permitted. Following numerous media interviews, it became clear that even the PM’s own Ministers and MP’s were confused and it took a few days before it was announced that yacht owners could now access their boats. Driving long distant in a privately owned car was allowed with members of your existing bubble, but not travel on public transport, and even a day sail was permitted. However, as there was initial confusion around whether marinas could now open, several businesses based at Port Solent (where our prospective boat is located), had remained closed. This meant that the planned launch on 15 May had to be delayed and was rebooked for 3 June. In the meantime, we had received the written report for the first part of the survey which highlighted a few issues that needed immediate attention or further investigation. As the surveyor had little work on at the time, he had plenty of time to talk to us, explain his findings and recommend action. As Cerulean is an older boat, we were bracing ourselves for a long list of jobs that would need correcting, which is what we received, but there was nothing too alarming – in fact the surveyor commented on how well built and strong the boat was, stating he could see why we were keen on her. The survey of the engine was still to be completed.

Following the circus surrounding Boris’ Chief Advisor, Dominic Cummings, flagrant disregard for the Covid-19 restrictions he was responsible for helping author, Boris took the ridiculous decision to try and take the heat out of not firing his right hand man, by easing restrictions further. While I was incensed by the way Boris and his “tow the line” Ministers responded, the most recent round of loosening the lockdown meant our sea trial could proceed on 6 June as planned, and we would not be in danger of breaking any guidelines – not that many British people feel compelled to stick to the letter of the rules any more now that Boris has made it clear we are to do as his government says, not as they do!

As we started making plans to travel to Portsmouth the following week it soon became clear it was not going to be quite as straight forward as we had hoped!

Life in isolation – Keeping the dream alive

The UK went into full lockdown on Monday 23 March. Our plan had to be put on hold.

With the contract signed and deposit paid for the purchase of “Cerulean of Penryn”, we now had to wait until the lockdown was over so we could arrange the survey and sea trial. In the meantime, we asked to be put in touch with the boat’s current owner, Richard, as we had numerous questions to ask so we could start to understand what we were taking on!

We called Richard during the first week of lockdown. He was very willing and extremely keen to talk about the boat. Having recently returned from a 12 month round trip to the Caribbean, Richard had some valuable and interesting experience to pass on. They had also kept a website, blog and facebook page of their travels, which we eagerly read as it contained detailed information of work, improvements and repairs carried out over the four years of their ownership. After talking to Richard for over an hour, we finished the conversation feeling even more certain we had made the right choice with our decision to continue with the purchase. For now though, there was nothing more we could do to move forward with the sale, except wait as we had made it clear we would not proceed until we could be present for the survey.

We were still living at Paul and Wendy’s in Acton, who had very generously thrown open their doors, lives and arms to welcome us into their bubble. As with most other British people, both their jobs were affected, particularly Wendy’s, who owns and a café in Shepherds Bush. By the weekend it became clear that the lockdown was going to last much longer than the initial three weeks the Government had announced and we started to consider how we could make the lockdown easier for all of us.

Over the first lockdown weekend, we borrowed a couple of bikes and cycled into the central London on a bitterly cold afternoon. It was an odd and surreal experience to cycle along empty roads and take in some of the sites of the city. Notting Hill, Park Lane, Marble Arch were deserted – only mad cyclists would usually consider riding around Marble Arch, but we virtually had the road to ourselves. We continued to Buckingham Palace and The Mall. A man and his young daughter stood with us at the gates of the Palace and watched the guards marching in front of the building with an audience of four looking on. The young girl had been so excited she had left her bike on its stand, in the middle of the roundabout – I wonder if she understood this could be the only time in her life that she would be able to do that!

We continued our bike ride down The Mall and into Trafalgar Square. The usually busy square was virtually empty of people, except for a couple of policemen who obviously shared our amazement at witnessing this scene as they were taking photos of the deserted monument. We biked to the front of the National Portrait Museum and drank in the site before agreeing to head towards Westminster Cathedral and start our return journey along the river. Well, that’s what we intended to do, anyway! I took off first, lazily biking along the paved area behind Trafalgar Square while Steve tried to warm up his hands, as I had nabbed the one pair of gloves! As Steve peddled to catch me up, he was immediately stopped by a couple of policemen sitting in a car enjoying the empty scene in front of them. I witnessed Steve being stopped and (I swear this is true….) had a conversation in my head which ended with me deciding to let Steve deal with their questions on his own…! My reasoning was that I thought his kiwi accent may buy him some grace… I was wrong, although he was not quite hauled off to the Tower (that would have been a great place to see though….), he was told in no uncertain terms that, if we continued to head to the river we would be issued with an immediate fine and were instructed to return home immediately via the road.

This meant going via Leicester Square, Chinatown, Tottenham Court Road and Paddington before biking alongside Hyde Park and back to Nottinghill, Shepherd’s Bush and Acton. Not a bad alternative to the river and everywhere we looked felt like we were biking through a ghost town!

It took me a couple of days to have my epiphany! When we returned from France our original plan had been to head to Cornwall and spend time with my sister, Bea and, if necessary, remain there for the lockdown. As things turned out, this was not possible, but Bea’s son, Piers and his family had managed to get down there. It took me a while to realise that this meant Piers’ house in Watford was empty, so I suggested to them that we could housesit while they were away. They were very willing to allow us to do this and it seemed the perfect scenario – giving Paul and Wendy back their home and giving us space for the indeterminate length of time we would be in isolation.

Wendy kindly drove us out to Watford and donated some much appreciated bags of food, including flour which was impossible to find in the shops. Piers and Jenni have a lovely home on, what is usually, a busy main road, just outside Watford. There is a small back garden which is paved with climbing plants on both sides of the courtyard.

Over the next few days/weeks we explored the area, going for walks, shopping and getting to know the neighbours. Every Thursday evening at 8pm we joined the rest of the street in clapping for the NHS. Each week more people joined in, cheering, banging pots and blowing horns as the street erupted in a cacophony of noise for one minute. It was a heartwarming experience and always brought a smile and wave from neighbours across the street and nextdoor.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months our frustration and impatience started to grow. It was exasperating to go for a walk and see people blatantly ignoring the social distancing requirements – gathering in groups, playing football or catching up with friends in the park. As numbers of daily deaths continued to escalate to over 600 per day the death toll of the virus had now outstripped the number of Londoners killed during the Blitz over a shorter period of time. We had stopped leaving the house unless it was for essential shopping, preferring to spend our time gardening, building a website for my uncle or studying instead of trying to dodge what seemed like the inevitability of contracting the virus. Our lovely neighbour, Lawrence, helped Steve attack the hedging plants and I planted herbs and gathered seeds to start a small vegetable garden. The weather was fabulous and we enjoyed a few weeks sunning ourselves in the small garden enjoying the unusually warm spring weather.

I started studying for my YachtMasters certificate, soon realising I didn’t know as much as I thought, but learning lots and enjoyed the challenge and learning process.

As we approached the last day of April we decided it was time to put a stake in the ground and plan for the next step in the boat purchasing process. As soon as restrictions start to ease, all yachties will want to get their boats in the water and salvage what will be left of the short sailing season, and we did not want to be left at the back of a long queue of boats wanting to be launched. We decided to pencil in the boat survey for Friday 5 June and arrange for the boat to be splashed as soon as it was possible. The surveyor agreed to start inspecting the boat in early May and we arranged for an engine survey as soon as we splashed. After talking to the boat owner, Richard, again we organised a sea trial for 6 June and had another good chat with him about the boat.

So, things are progressing, all be it slowly. We both feel excited about what is to come in the next few weeks and look forward to continuing our journey in an attempt to keep the dream alive.

Broking a deal – not smooth sailing!

Following our rushed trip to France our mind was made up. We had found our boat. The more boats we saw, the more we were convinced the Seastream – Ceruleum – was the right boat for us. However, with everything in chaos and countries closed, was it the right time to proceed?

Once again, it was time for us to have a serious talk about our plans! This seems to be a regular occurrence as everything is changing so quickly. The outcome was that we would proceed with the purchase but for everything to be put on hold until after the lockdown, which at this point had not been announced yet but was obviously imminent.

Our broker had remained in regular contact, although he was now in The British Virgin Isles overseeing a refit on a storm damaged boat. He had previously sent us a contract which we had refused to sign as it contained deadlines which we felt were unreasonable in the changing environment we were now in. We had chosen our broker due to a recommendation on a YouTube channel I had watched who said it was a good idea to employ a broker that works for you, not the vendor and they can navigate you through all the processes and legal requirements when purchasing a boat overseas. This seemed like a good idea as we wanted someone on the ground, working for our best interest. When the day came for us to start negotiating on the purchase for Ceruleum, he asked us for a price band to give him the freedom to start negotiating low and bargain hard for us. A few days later he informed us that he had secured Ceruleum at our maximum price braclet. We were not too concerned about this as we felt we were still getting a great boat at a good price.

A few days later our broker called us and said he was sending the contract and invoice for a deposit. He said the contract stated we were paying £4k less than he had told us as the selling broker would not split the commission with him. He was therefore passing that cost onto us. We were a bit confused but we had secured the boat for a price well within our budget and didn’t think too much about it – on reflection a silly mistake.

We allowed the boat purchase to slow down as we were concerned about the changing effects of Covid-19 and how this was going to disrupt our plans. We certainly didn’t want to commit to purchasing a boat and then discover we were unable to sail anywhere in her and be left with large marina fees in the process. Once we heard that other people were viewing her, we needed to make a decision and asked our broker to arrange for the contract to be changed to reflect the current situation and adjust the length of time stated between signing the purchase agreement and arranging a survey/sea trial.

Due to our broker being in the British Virgin Isles, we talked directly with Sam from Ancasta, the selling broker. On the Monday, Sam arranged for a revised contract to be drawn up and we were happy with the wording. I told Sam I was convinced we would go into lockdown by Wednesday so wanted to delay the surveyor inspection until later in the week.

We went into lockdown that night!

Tuesday morning we received a call from Mike, our broker’s boss. He informed us that he had just fired our broker due to some discrepancies in accounting practices. Basically, it transpired that our broker had asked us to pay all monies for the boat directly to him, and not Ancasta.

Buying a boat is similar to buying property – you strike a deal, sign a contract, pay a deposit. The deposit is held in a trust account, which the broker legally has to have to keep the money safe for both the purchaser and vendor. It transpired that our broker was not using a trust account, but was asking us to pay the money into his newly formed company account. As he was now in the British Virgin Isles, I shudder to think what could have happened if we had paid the deposit as he instructed.

Sam and Mike were both hugely apologetic and assured us everything could proceed as normal now, just not with the original broker involved. Fortunately we had signed nothing and had no financial commitment to anyone at this stage. We were then informed that, in fact, Ancasta had agreed to split the commission with the broker, so he was hoping to be paid twice! The positive to all this is that the price we were now paying for the boat has reduced by £4k!

We felt a little bruised and gun-shy as we looked over the contract. Was the universe trying to tell us something?! We had another HandS downloading session and decided this was still the right boat, it was just the wrong man who had been involved. It was time to move forward!

Boat shopping during a pandemic

Our broker met us on board CoP as we were lifting floorboards, looking in the bilges, opening cupboards and inspecting the flexiteak decks. Our first impressions were even better than we were expecting. The layout, space and quality of fittings were excellent and we tried to contain our excitement as we continued to explore above and below deck. While there were areas that needed attention we felt none of them were unsurmountable.

We left CoP with a sense that we had found our benchmark – now all the other boats we had arranged to view needed to meet the standard set by her.

We spent the rest of the afternoon and the next morning looking at boats – a Freedom, Najad, Swan and Oyster 42. I really liked the Oyster 42 but the owners had just accepted an offer on her so she was out of contention.

We met the brother of a good friend for lunch in a pub by the water in Lymington. Mike and Ali had met while both participating in the Clipper round the world challenge. Mike now does repairs and preparation work for Clipper and both were keen to hear about our plans as we were keen to hear of their experiences living on and racing a boat around the world.

On returning to London we dropped off our hire car at Shepherds Bush and made our way through rush hour buses to meet friends, Tina and Andy, in a Chiswick pub. Along the way we bumped into a security guard who had helped us with directions the previous day and here we were, wearing the same clothes, pulling the same cases with the same determined and slightly anxious looks on our faces. He gave us a quizzical nod as we strode past and must’ve wondered whether we were still lost or just odd – (almost certainly the latter!).

Tina and Andy had managed to get hold of the key for Jocs’ apartment. Jocs is another family member who was holidaying with her partner, Dave, in Mexico. Jocs’ 13 year old daughter, Bella, had been in the flat to put clean sheets on the bed so we were able to drop into bed when we arrived – exhausted from the drive and still suffering the effects of jetlag.

We woke up early on Friday morning and scoured the news. The only news was about the spread of Covid19 (Coronavirus) and the different ways countries were handling the pandemic. As more and more cases were being reported in Europe each day we started to understand how this could derail our plans unless we acted fast. We felt we had little choice but to continue as planned until we were told, or forced to stop. With no income and time ticking, we needed to continue our search for the perfect boat, regardless of whether we may believe we had already seen her. It would be foolhardy to dismiss the other boats we had spent months researching when we knew there were good options for us to look at in France, but was it crazy to head to France when the Covid19 situation was worsening daily? Knowing what we know now, we would not make the same decision, but at the time the information was so sketchy so “boxing on” seemed the right thing to do.

Fortunately, my sister lives in Paris so we talked to her about what would happen if France/UK locked down while we were there and made loose arrangements if that situation arose. We felt a false sense of security as we boarded our EasyJet flight to Marseille on Monday afternoon. London was still busy with the tubes, trains and buses not noticeable less crowded. There was only one moment of concern when Steve was delayed at the boarding gate when an airline staff member questioned whether someone travelling on a New Zealand passport was allowed to enter France. He attempted to make a phone call to check, but no-one answered and, with me telling him it was fine, of course a kiwi can board the flight, he handed back Steve’s passport and let us through!

Marseille was warm with clear blue skies which was a welcome temperature difference to London which was still experiencing winter temperatures and gloomy skies! We collected a hire car, which only I was authorised to drive. It takes a while to retrain your brain into driving on the right side of the road and changing gears with your right hand – well it took my tired brain a while. I think the car hire company staff must’ve watched us slowly leave the car park and wondered whether they had unleashed a lethal weapon onto the Marseille streets!

We arrived in Marseille city centre and were surprised how busy it was. The streets were full of cars and people were milling around, however no restaurants, bars, shops or cafes were open. France had started a lockdown of businesses to try and contain the spread of the virus. Our apartment was on the 4^th floor of a five floored building overlooking an historic square which would normally be bristling with activity in the many restaurants that spilled onto the paved piazza. The square was silent with the only people walking through usually wearing a face mask.

We had left the car in an underground car park and walked to the apartment carrying our bags. As we came close to the old port, a number of vans pulled up and, what looked like, an army of heavily armed, burly men wearing a dark blue padded uniform, jumped out and started patrolling the streets.

It was hard for us to get an update on what was happening and we received mixed messages on whether the city/country was in lock down or not. Having no definite confirmation one way or the other, we decided to continue with our planned meetings at Port Napoleon Marina, about a one hour drive from Marseille.

Port Napoleon is located off a long straight road, splattered with roundabouts. The turning to the marina is easy to miss (I did), and then another long straight road which felt like it was leading us into a deserted backwater of truckyards rather than a large marina.

We met with two brokers, Sam and Philippe, who showed us the boats we were particularly keen to see. Philippe was extremely knowledgeable and, in between him taking urgent family calls, he passed on a lot of information about the boats he was showing us and the process around buying in France. He also explained that the country was in lockdown from mid-day – it was now 1.00pm. Alarmed, we discussed where that left us. Philippe calmly told us not to worry that, as long as we had the correct paperwork we would be fine, and he would give us the correct form. Armed with this, we set off back to Marseille, happy that we had achieved what we set out to do!

We returned the car to the airport and caught a bus into the city. The city was deserted with more cars than people moving around and police questioning drivers as they drove through the centre. They didn’t take much notice of us as we passed by with a baguette in our hand and headed to the apartment, which is where we stayed for the rest of the night, not daring to venture outside again onto the empty streets.

The next morning we left early to walk to the train station in plenty of time to catch the fast train to Paris. On the way we waited to cross the road and a small car, packed with four burly men, drew to a halt in front of us. The driver, dressed in casual clothes, identified himself as the police and asked us where we were going. In my rather broken French I explained we were going to the train station to catch a train to Paris. He looked at us quizzically and, probably realising it was useless asking us too much more, said as he drove away, “Don’t stay too long on the street”. We were still not sure if they really were police or just vigilantes but we walked quickly to the station, only stopping to buy bread and croissants for the journey as we had been told the buffet car would be closed. The train station was quiet and, due to a surprising lack of chairs, we perched ourselves on some tables, well away from anyone else. There seemed to be no trains arriving or leaving in the hour we waited for the platform number to be displayed on the large board. While we waited, several uniformed and muscled police officers walked past and stopped people at random to ask for papers. They were closely followed by a small brigade of very serious looking soldiers in army fatigues carrying large machine guns as they walked through the station. It was very intimidating but showed the seriousness of the situation.

We were relieved to get on the train and found our reserved seats on the top deck of the express train to Paris. The train was full and, although passengers did try not to sit together, it was impossible in our carriage.

My sister, Judy, met us at Gare de Lyon. It was wonderful to see her at the gate but we were not able to hug or touch one another (particularly in public), so hopefully the excitement of seeing her showed on our faces. Judy led us through the deserted metro and trolley bus back to her house in the 20^th arrondissement in NE Paris. It was great to see Jean-Paul when we arrived and be able to introduce him to Steve by the banging of forearms together!

We had a good sleep and woke to a warm morning with clear skies. We decided the best thing for us to do was to return to London as soon as possible, in case the UK closed their borders to foreign nationals. Although I have a UK passport, Steve doesn’t so it would have caused a whole lot of other issues if he was refused entry!

We booked an EasyJet flight leaving Paris for Gatwick at 4pm but decided to give ourselves plenty of time to get to the airport, just in case of any travel issues on the metro and train. Judy walked us to Porte de Bagnotlet Metro station and made sure we bought the correct tickets. With excellent directions in our hand, we said goodbye to Judy after a visit that was far too short, so she could return home to conform with the country lockdown.

All the stations and trains were eerily quiet and we arrived at Charles de Galle airport about 40 minutes later. The airport was deserted. We had no luggage to check in so we continued through security to wait the 2hrs for our flight to leave. On checking the departure board it showed our flight was delayed 30 minutes. In the departure area we headed towards our gate – a comfortable looking lounge caught our eye and, thinking this would be a perfect place to wait, we made ourselves at home entertaining ourselves doing cryptic crossword puzzles. Time passed quickly …. A little too quickly, and the next time we looked at our watch, we realised there was not much time to get to the gate as the flight was due to leave in 30 minutes. It soon became apparent we had not heard any announcements while enjoying the comfortable lounge.

When we started walking, it became clear the gate was not as close as we had originally thought and we still had to clear through passport control – easy for me, but a little longer for Steve. Once through we started running – the gate lounge was in front of us but deserted apart from two EasyJet staff. We announced our arrival and they informed us we had missed the flight – even though it was displayed as delayed, “It had left early” the man informed us with a “couldn’t care less” shrug!

I have to say, how we handled this news was a credit to us both! Our initial disbelieve, self-flagellation and despair soon turned into action and planning our next move! We stuck together and worked through it as a team. It would’ve been easy to blame each other, get angry at EasyJet and dissolve into a quivering puddle on the floor but there was no point. If we wanted to apportion blame, we need look no further than ourselves, so it was best to just get on with it and find out what our options were going forward.

We booked a later flight, leaving in just under two hours, and waited beside the gate – we weren’t going to make the same mistake again!

Back in London, life was very different. The airport was busy, the train, station and streets were full of people. It was such a contrast to France, I found it difficult to comprehend. We were all supposed to be fighting this virus together, but there appeared to be a huge difference between countries and how the Governments were choosing to react to it. Instead of acting early and avoiding a huge spike in illness and death, the UK Government seemed to have taken the route to delay taking significant action until the number of those infected has increased. Here we were in London where all shops, cafes and pubs were open, public transport packed and roads still very busy.

Paul and Wendy, were now out of isolation and warmly welcomed us into their comfortable home in Acton. Gradually London closed down. First the pubs, cafes, restaurants and entertainment centres; next libraries and leisure centres; then all shops except supermarkets, chemists and banks and eventually a complete lockdown to prevent movement.

Prior to the lockdown, we had considered our options. We considered returning to NZ but with no home, jobs or place to self-isolate, we ruled this out. We had hoped to head to Cornwall and spend the lockdown with my sister Bea and her family, but with pleas from the Cornish communities to stop a further huge influx of people who had headed to Cornwall, we felt we would be adding to the problem. Our only option was to stay with Paul and Wendy – great for us, but how would they feel?

Fortunately they were in agreement and continued to be welcoming and fantastic company – hopefully they’ll feel the same in three weeks time!

The start of the search

Late in our search for boats, my uncle Tom contacted us to ask whether we had considered a boat called a Seastream. He had an English friend who was part of a syndicate that had purchased one many years ago and were now in the process of selling it. We were not familiar with the Seastream so was interested when Tom sent us the details of the boat and found it met a lot of our requirements. We decided to research the boat a little more and soon discovered the Seastream was an extremely well made, highly regarded, bluewater design with each boat custom made to individual requirements so no two Seastreams were the same. The boat my uncle had found us was located in Greece so we decided to see whether any were for sale in the UK so we could go on board one without having to travel to Greece first. Our thought was that if we liked the design, we would then arrange to meet the owners in Greece. Luckily for us, there was one for sale in Southampton and she looked even better equipped than the one in Greece.

We had employed a broker based in the UK and we were in regular touch with him, asking him to arrange viewings for us on the boats we were particularly interested in seeing. Our broker contacted the selling agent and as we were receiving the answers to our numerous questions, we tried not to get too excited about the prospect of viewing the boat. Three weeks before we were due to arrive in London, our broker gave us the gutting news that the boat had been sold. I felt like the wind had been taken from our sails – quite literally! The next day he contacted us to say that another Seastream was coming onto the market at the end of February and when we received the details, our excitement grew. This boat was even better than the one that had just sold with a better design, layout and more up to date equipment. We had to act fast as our broker had discovered another couple were interested in her too. On our behalf, he inspected the boat and sent us over 400 pictures which gave us a better idea of both the set-up and her condition. After seeing the photos we were even more excited about seeing the boat for ourselves. On our brokers recommendation we decided to submit an offer as this would ensure the boat was still available on our arrival. Our offer was accepted and we arranged to see Cerulean of Penryn (CoP) two days after our arrival.

After waking from our long slumber on our first morning in London, I received a call from Paul, whose house we were staying in. He and Wendy were at a ski resort in Northern Italy – close to the epicentre of Europe’s biggest Coronavirus outbreak. Their holiday had been cancelled and they were on their way home where they needed to self-quarantine. If we didn’t want to be quarantined with them, we would have to leave!

Fortunately we were heading south the day they were due back and managed to arrange to stay at another family members flat on our return the following day. In the meantime we had organised to meet one of the syndicate owners of the Seastream in Greece and did this in a deserted Italian restaurant in Richmond on our second afternoon in London as the daylight started to fade at around 3pm. It was lovely meeting Ken who talked to us enthusiastically about their boat and the many happy years they have owned her. It appears to us that Seastream owners are part of a small but very special club, with all filled with a sense of pride in their boat.

The next day we hired a car and drove to Portsmouth. We arrived at the boatyard early and wandered around the boat storage area looking at the huge variety of boats sitting in their cradles. Our eyes fell on an elegant, highly polished boat with a fresh coating of red antifoul. She really stood out in the crowded yard – this was our first look at CoP.

NZ departure and UK arrival

Friday 6 March was departure day, and it seemed to be upon us before we knew it. After several farewell events, dinners and tearful goodbyes, we left Auckland just as the spread of the Coronavirus was starting to gather speed around the World. Thanking our good fortune that we had booked tickets via San Francisco instead of through Asia, we checked in our four large cases and heaved a sigh of relief as we saw them disappear on the conveyor belt. Our adventure had really started and we were taking with us 20kgs of my son’s designer clothing which he couldn’t bare to live without, for him to collect in London in April when we planned to meet up with Jak and Ju.

San Francisco was a wonderful break. Far less crowded than usual the city was still vibrant although all the cavernous restaurants and eateries were half empty. We walked through the city, took a tourist bus, went over Golden Gate Bridge, watched the playful seal lions in the harbour, visited the Natural History Museum, wandered down Haight Street (the birthplace of hippies) and took in all the sites and smells of this great city. The smell of marijuana often filled our nostrils as we passed the many smoke shops where customers have been happily puffing away since it was legalised in 2018.

After two packed but fun days staying in a beautiful apartment close to a number of beautiful Painted Ladies (traditional, wooden, multi-storied villas elaborately painted in many different colours), we headed to the airport. Our luggage weight limit was considerably less on this leg and, although we had tried to keep our cases below 20kg’s we were reduced to wearing the heaviest of our clothing and leaving non-essential clothes in San Fran where we hoped some of the numerous homeless people would find them.

London beckoned and we landed in Gatwick on a very cold Monday afternoon with clear skies. It was exciting to be back but trying to navigate the narrow, busy pavements with four large suitcases plus bags over our shoulders was challenging to say the least! We had arranged to stay at the Central London home of family while they were on holiday and we quickly made ourselves at home before collapsing into bed, exhausted.

We slept the sleep of champions, eventually dragging ourselves out of bed a full 18hours later! Feeling refreshed and rather smug that we had managed to knock any jetlag on the head in the first day…. Or so we thought!

Let’s start at the beginning..

I don’t remember the moment we first started discussing the possibility of buying a boat and sailing it half way around the world, but I think it was about three months into our relationship and went something like this:

Helen: I have a dream of buying a boat and sailing off to the Islands for a few years

Steve: That sounds great, but I’d love to sail around Europe and back to New Zealand…..

For most other couples that is where the conversation would have ended. Idle talk over a bottle of wine, words spilled out into the abyss of a busy Auckland bar and then floated away as the topic is changed. But for us it was just the start of an exciting journey that ends at the beginning of the adventure!

Reflecting back on that moment it seems crazy now that our conversation sparked an interest which formed a plan and created deadlines until we were hurling ourselves straight down the mountain with the same thrill a new skier experiences when they first progress off the nursery slopes! It’s even crazier when you understand that Steve had little to no sailing experience at the point of the conversation and his knowledge of boats was even less (if that was possible!).

Over the course of the next two years the focus was on learning, researching and planning. Our roles became clear – Steve researched power management systems, anchors, navigation systems and design safety. As the more experienced sailor, I researched best boat layouts, sailing performance and gave my tuppence worth when Steve questioned something he had researched. Steve, being more of a reader than me, devoured information – he was like a sponge. Very quickly he was becoming far more knowledgeable than me on what models and makes of boat we should keep on our design list and why others we were considering may not be the best choice.

The preparation

Our shared passion and drive to make this dream a reality was drawing us closer together. On a beautiful afternoon on a picnic rug at a winery concert between band sets while sharing a lovely bottle of red, Steve proposed, a couple of months before our two year anniversary. Some were surprised at how fast we were moving – I had only left my 25 year marriage three years earlier and the ink on my divorce had hardly dried, yet here I was accepting a proposal of marriage from a man I had known for less than two years! It seemed crazy yet it seemed so right for us – it was just the natural next step towards making our dream a reality and I had no hesitation saying yes to this wonderful man who had fast become, not only my future but the partner in a life long dream.

In late 2019 we believed we had drawn up a list of suitable models and makes of boats and almost every night was spent searching YachtWorld to get a feel for what was available within our budget. We decided to increase our initial boat purchasing budget of GBP100K to GBP150K. It was expected that this money would include the purchase and refit/upgrade of a boat.

With my house in Christchurch sold, Steve decided to sell his house in Auckland as it became clear that continuing to rent out the property was going to become a stress point with little monetary return, so investing the cash would be of better benefit in the current financial climate.

In mid-October we started preparing the house for sale. I was in the middle of making new curtains when I had an accident while working and broke my right wrist. Breaking a bone is never good, but this was a particularly bad one, snapping my radius and compacting it which meant the bones needed to be pulled apart and re-set before I was furnished with a big heavy cast. Not only was this an extremely painful experience, it also led to other complications and implications – difficulty with working, not being able to drive, how was I going to finish the curtains, help clear out Steve’s house, tidy the garden and what affect it may have on our impending wedding?!

Fortunately, due to Steve’s patience and hard work, we were able to meet every deadline. I managed to finish the curtains with the help of my lovely sister, who returned from sailing the South Pacific at the perfect time to assist me with hemming the material while we were installing them in the house a few hours before the auction! ACC helped me with transport while working, paying for taxis to take me to the office, meetings or hospital appointments. Steve cooked or took me out for meals and kept the apartment tidy and I managed to one finger type numerous runsheets and emails to ensure our wedding plans stayed on track.

It was around this time that we employed the services of John Neal from M ahina Expeditions as a consultant to help us choose the right boat that would suit our purposes. We provided him with a very thorough list of what we wanted (and didn’t want) and why/how we had come to this decision. We had been adamant we did not want to consider a boat with teak decks or in-mast furling. I had owned a Whiting 29 for many years which had teak decks and I vowed I would never make that mistake again as they were old, leaked and needed replacing. I did not want to go through that stress again in a few years’ time. John persuaded us to rethink as our hardline attitude meant we were discounting very suitable boats from our search – boats like Halberg Rassy, Swan, a lot of Amel’s and other boats.

Armed with new confidence and a greater selection of boats to choose from, we started our regular hunt and trawled through on-line yacht selling sites, drawing up a list of boats of interest.