We had plenty of time to stretch our legs on Tuesday morning, walking up and down the arrival dock waiting on the customs/immigration folks to arrive and clear us in. They finally arrived around 10:00 a.m. and were gone no more than an hour later. It was definitely a more thorough process than we’ve experienced before (with the exception of the Honduran Navy’s search for contraband in tiny Swan Island), but it wasn’t as nerve-wracking as other cruisers had made it out to be. The three female officials were not at all imposing or threatening, although the woman in charge of inspecting the bottom of the boat for growth (using an underwater camera) appeared pretty stern initially. By the end, everyone was smiling, and they walked away with nothing but some dried beans and one of Tiff’s wooden masks from Tonga that had some wood-boring insects in it. (It was returned to us the same day after a pesticide treatment.) They do take biosecurity very seriously here, but it seems that they have good reason to work so hard to preserve the awesome natural beauty of the environment.

Green mountains of the Northland

We opted to take a spot on the dock rather than picking up a mooring so that we could take full advantage of the land-based amenities. Once settled, the first order of business, naturally, was to find something to eat and shower. We settled for a quick lunch from the general store here (there’s only one restaurant, and it’s pretty pricey) and headed to the showers. (As usual, I feel the need  to go into some detail about my experience.) First off, the water pressure was excellent, and yes, it was HOT! However, you have to pay $1 NZ (about $0.75 US) for every 4 minutes of hot water, so I didn’t spend a luxurious hour soaking up the hot water, as I would have liked. In fact, I only spent $3. I guess I’m so cheap that even hot-shower-deprivation can’t bring me to put a high price on a shower. Even so, I walked out feeling clean and refreshed, and my husband hardly recognized me with my hair down and my "Western" clothes. (We tend to dress purely for comfort when off-shore.)

Settled in among large neighbors on the boatyard dock

That afternoon, Dallas was already attacking his boat maintenance to-do list. There are quite a few marine services located here by the marina, and he stopped in to speak to a mechanic about the port engine’s oil pressure problem. An hour later, a mechanic came by with an oil pressure gauge, but wouldn’t you know it, the problem (the oil pressure alarm sounding when the engine is at idle) didn’t occur when they actually wanted it to, so we’ll have to take the boat out into the bay in the next few days in hopes that the mechanic can observe the problem once the engine has warmed up and the oil is more viscous (I just confirmed that this is in fact a word).

That night Wes and Tiff rode the bikes to Paihia, 7 kilometers away. Dallas was tired, but the money we just received from his brother Tim for our just-made-landfall dinner was burning a hole in our pocket, so he mustered up a second wind, and we made our way to the nearby restaurant. Unfortunately, it was closed, so we had no choice but to start off walking to Paihia. (We could have returned to the boat for a home-cooked meal of course, but neither of us considered that very seriously.) The walk along the windy road into the rolling, forest-lined hills was beautiful, but it was getting dark and there wasn’t much of a sidewalk, so we were relieved to come across a tavern serving pizza just a couple of kilometers from the marina. We walked into the middle of Quiz Night, so all of the tables were full of Kiwis intently examining the question on the screen and whispering to their teammates about the possible answers. We located an empty loveseat by the wall and learned the answer to questions such as "How many tries did so-and-so score in last week’s rugby match?" while enjoying a cold beer–I opted for a locally brewed draft, while Dallas enjoyed his first Guinness in almost a year.

Paihia from a distance

After the quiz ended around 10 p.m., everyone cleared out quickly except for us and a couple of locals, one of whom was a very animated local guy named Anz. He had a fairly light complexion and later explained that he was the "white sheep" of his Maori family, most of whom have browner skin. He wore baggy cotton pants tucked into tall fishing boots, which seem to be the footwear of choice here in the Bay of Islands. We enjoyed "yarning" with Anz and taking in his funny Kiwi expressions such as "sweet-az!" (cool).

Even though we are now in a 1st world country, people like Anz take advantage of the abundant natural resources, hunting or fishing or collecting shellfish and oysters to feed their families. Anz was quite proud of the plentiful food, social services, and natural beauty of his country as well as his subsistence lifestyle and was surprised to find on his travels through the States that no one, not even the Native Americans, relied on hunting as a means of survival anymore. Anyway, we hope to see Anz again while we are in the area, and I plan to take him up on his offer to introduce me to local delicacies such as pink abalone (shellfish).

Wednesday was occupied by boat projects (e.g., repairing a broken step on the transom and re-installing the indoor VHF receiver) and catching up with cruisers who just arrived such as our friends on S/V Anima and S/V Marionette. However, Dallas and I took in some natural beauty surreptitiously on our walk to the Yamaha store to get a new propeller for the dinghy’s outboard engine. As the friendly Kiwi who gave us directions informed us, "You just follow the railroad tracks till you get to a wee bridge, then there’s a wee dirt road." It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, the tracks and road were lined with wildflowers, and the indigenous birds accompanied us with their unique sounds. I suggested to Dallas that whether we decide to spend the cyclone season in Tauranga, Whangarei, or Auckland (it’s still a bit up in the air), it would be nice to take time each day to avail ourselves of the local scenery.

We have to make time for such things, because there is plenty to do on the boat. As my dad said while skyping yesterday, "I didn’t realize the ocean was so hard on boats!" You can say that again. After bailing several gallons of water out of the forward starboard bilge this morning, Dallas is regretting pushing the boat harder than usual so that we could get here a day earlier, but hindsight is always 20-20. Hopefully he will feel as though he’s accomplished some major boat repairs before he starts work in a couple of weeks.

Back in the bilge

We recently learned that Wes is going to return to TX to work during the cyclone season rather than trying to find work here. He and Tiff will be on the same flight back on Nov. 23. That leaves Dallas and I to try to create some semblance of Thanksgiving, just the two of us, here on the other side of the world. Maybe we can introduce some Kiwis such as Anz to pumpkin pie.