Today was magical. Sailing along the Big Sur coast in warm sunshine, a light breeze wafting us along, the ocean swells gently raising and lowering the boat. Louie Armstrong singing La Vie en Rose. Blue skies with a few clouds on the horizon and a chiaroscuro haze along the shore, giving the land a dreamlike quality. Pelicans fly by in single file, skimming over the sea. Pelicans have a comical aspect on land, but at sea they are elegant birds, beautiful in flight.
Google recently notified me that according to my Google Maps timeline I’ve visited 28 countries and 837 cities in the past 5 years. I don’t remember them all, but I do know this is a day I will remember for it’s beauty and serenity. We live in a world of ugliness, hate, brutishness, pain, suffering, and deceit. It is also a world of sublime beauty, divine love, unexpected kindnesses, peace, joy, and honesty. Please enjoy the beauty, love, kindness, peace, joy, and honesty of this day.
I sailed out of Alameda on Thursday, 11 October 2018. Spent a couple of days in San Francisco, then sailed for Monterey, arriving 15 October after a one night stay in Half Moon Bay and an overnight sail. Will depart 17 October for Morro Bay. First days and night of sailing have been beautiful and peaceful. Here are a few photos.
‘There are those who become so involved in looking at the man-made lights of the city that they unconsciously forget to rise up and look at the great cosmic light and think about it – that gets up in the eastern horizon every morning and moves across the sky with a kind of symphony of motion and paints its technicolor across the blue – a light that man can never make. They become so involved in looking at the skyscraping buildings of the Loop of Chicago or Empire State Building of New York that they unconsciously forget to think about the gigantic mountains that kiss the skies as if to bathe their peaks in the lofty blue – something that man could never make. They become so busy thinking about radar and their television that they unconsciously forget to think about the stars that bedeck the heavens like swinging lanterns of eternity, those stars that appear to be shiny, silvery pins sticking in the magnificent blue pincushion.’ – Martin Luther King, Jr.
Tuesday I woke up early and walked across the street to have scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on toast at Dizengoff. Ponsonby Road has many excellent restaurants, but food in New Zealand is expensive. I have to eat about 4000 calories per day to keep from losing weight, so I’m not looking forward to seeing my Visa bill when I get home. It was drizzling, so I finished reading my Samuel Beckett and started a book of Martin Luther King Jr speeches. By 10 the rain had stopped so I walked down to the quay and took the ferry to Waiheke Island.
I hiked across the island, and went for a swim at Palm Beach. I had to throw my hiking boots away – they were falling apart and smelled so bad I couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them – so I’ve been hiking in my flip flops. Several days I’ve walked over 15 miles in them, and they must have over 1000 miles on them in total. So my $20 Havaianas have outlasted my hiking boots, and they are more comfortable – at least in warm weather.
On the way back I stopped for lunch in Onetangi – very good gnocchi with summer squash. By the time I got back to Auckland and wandered around for a while it was time for dinner and walking past a place called Uncle Man’s I noticed they served rojak, so I had to go in. Not the best rojak I’ve had.
Yesterday I relaxed and walked around Auckland. Stopped at the museum to see the Maori exhibits.
I’ve had a wonderful time in New Zealand watching the clouds and stars, hiking in the mountains and forests, swimming in the sea.
This morning I watched a gorgeous sunrise while eating blueberry pikelettes on the patio of Cafe One2One, an appropriate ending to a wonderful trip.
‘Perhaps it’s done already, perhaps they have said me already, perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story, that would surprise me, if it opens, it will be I, it will be the silence, where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’llgo on.’ – Samuel Beckett
‘There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.’
Drove here Monday from Auckland and decided to stay the week. One location or another in the Bay of Islands is on most every top ten list for sailing, surfing, diving, beaches, etc. for good reason. It’s a stunning area with warm weather and water, secluded beaches, uninhabited islands, and friendly natives who speak english, though often unintelligibly. I’ve rented a bungalow on a hill overlooking the bay for the week.
Went surfing twice this week on the Tutukaka Coast – haven’t gone surfing in years, but like skiing one doesn’t forget how to do it. Had an amazing time and stayed in the water for hours until too exhausted to go on. As they say here, I was rather chuffed.
A couple of other mornings I kayaked out to some of the islands. Went to Ngawha Hot Springs and sat in the mud and mineral baths one night. Afternoons I’ve been going for long swims. I like to swim straight out from the beach for 15 or 20 minutes until I’m well offshore in the deep water. It’s peaceful out there. Serene. Just the faint sound of the breakers on the beach. I float on my back and look at the sky as the swells gently lift me up, then lower me down, or swim underwater and see how deep I can dive.
Yesterday I went sailing on the bay, then the lady I’m renting the bungalow from took me to the RNZRSA (kind of like the veteran’s hall) for a St. Patrick’s Day party with all the locals; friendly people, but I honestly can only understand half of what they say – I do better in Spain and Italy.
Tonight I’m watching rugby with some neighbors. Tomorrow I head south towards Auckland where I will spend a few days before heading home.
Spent Saturday in Wellington. Wonderful, active waterfront with canoe racing, a buskers convention, and the New Zealand Arts Festival all taking place.
Took the Northern Explorer north to Auckland on Sunday. Scenic journey along coast then through interior of North Island. It is a beautiful country, but I think the clouds are the most extraordinary thing in New Zealand. The Maori name for New Zealand, Aotearoa, translates to something like ‘Big White Cloud’. The clouds blow across the Pacific, then slow down when they hit the island and form ever changing billowing layers overhead.
‘Liberty, friend Sancho, is one of the choicest gifts that heaven hath bestowed upon man, and exceeds in value all the treasures which the earth contains within its bosom, or the sea covers. Liberty, as well as honor, man ought to preserve at the hazard of his life; for without it life is insupportable.’
Abel Tasman 2
Spent Sunday afternoon and Monday in Nelson, then took the shuttle to Abel Tasman on Tuesday morning and started hiking along the coast in beautiful weather. Camped at Torrent Bay, then continued to Awaroa Wednesday under cloudy skies with a warm drizzle. Finished hiking early Thursday morning under sunny skies at Totaranui and caught the water taxi back to Marahau. A wonderful coastal hike, although the final section to Wainui is closed due to damage from the recent cyclone.
I’ve done a lot of walking the last few years, and my hiking gear (shoes, backpack, etc.) is wearing out. I, however, feel better than I’ve ever felt in every way. To be alive and at liberty to do what brings one joy is indeed one of the choicest gifts.
Tomorrow I fly to Wellington, and Sunday I take the Northern Explorer (train) to Auckland.
After a weekend in Christchurch I’ve had to revise my baseline expectations of the damage an earthquake can do. I recently read a book on behavioral economics and decision making, ‘Thinking, Fast and Slow’ , which posits that we set our expectations of worst case scenarios based on our personal experience and have difficulty truly moving beyond that even when data shows things could be worse. My baseline for earthquake damage has always been the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake. The damage from the 2011 Christchurch earthquake is much worse. Even 7 years later the devastation is quite visible – empty lots and damaged buildings everywhere. What’s amazing is that even quite modern buildings were severely damaged and are uninhabitable. Does this mean I’m ready to buy earthquake insurance? No, but I may add a couple more days supply to my emergency rations.
But there is always a sense after the ground moves that not only is everything going to be alright, but there is an opportunity for a new beginning, to make everything even better, to rise from the rubble to new glories. Even 7 years later that feeling is palpable in Christchurch. Why does it take an event to trigger this sense in most of us, especially collectively? As the ancient meditation says, every in breath is a rebirth, an opportunity.
I’m off to Nelson to see what possibilities are there.
I spent Thursday 22 February wandering around Auckland, then flew to Queenstown on the South Island Friday morning. Queenstown is a tourist town, similar to North Lake Tahoe, with skiing in the winter, adventure sports in the summer, and severe traffic problems all year. I was glad to get out of there this morning and begin hiking the Routeburn Track.
It begins in the flats and winds through beautiful Beech forest along a stream. Moss and ferns cover the ground, and bright green lichen grows on many of the ancient trees. As the route begins to climb there are numerous waterfalls.
Today was a beautiful day, but a severe gale (120kph winds) and heavy rain are forecast for tomorrow and they may close the track.
As usual the weather forecast was worse than the actual weather – the winds were just 110kph and there was 10 inches of rain, not 12. I left the Routeburn Falls Hut with Peter from Wellington and Amy from Sydney just before 8am. We wanted to be gone before they decided whether to close the track or not (it did remain open).
It was a wet and windy climb up to the Harris Saddle (about 2000 ft elevation gain) where we stopped briefly at the shelter to warm up.Once we left the shelter and walked along the ridge the winds were ferocious. The track is above the treeline until just before the the next hut so there is nothing to break the wind, and when traversing around exposed outcroppings one had to brace or grab on to something to keep from being blown off the edge of the track by strong wind gusts. But it wasn’t horrible, and we all agreed it was an invigorating hike.
We were the first to arrive at the MacKenzie Hut at 11:30. Peter decided to continue on to the next hut. We started a fire in the wood stove and soon more hikers started straggling in, progressively wetter and more bedraggled as the afternoon wore on. By late afternoon there were wet boots and clothes strewn everywhere. It was commonly agreed that there is no such thing as a waterproof boot.
I’ve been reading a book about swimming, The Haunts of the Black Masseur, which led to a conversation about Goethe (an avid swimmer), and then the parable of the tortoise and the hare. Yesterday several people were running or walking across the track in one day – it’s only 20 miles. We backpackers with our heavy loads take three days. The person I was talking with had the unique perspective that we were like the tortoise in that we were trying to carry our home on our back, while the trail runners carried nothing, like the hare. I don’t think I’m really meant to be a tortoise.
An American who had walked in from the other direction told us he had waded through a raging stream up to his waist and practically swept to his death. An Australian sitting nearby said she’d walked through the same stream at about the same time and barely got her feet wet. We Americans are really getting a bad reputation as drama queens.
We left around 8am. It was a glorious day and the payoff for the weather the previous day was incredible waterfalls all along the track.
We reached the end of the track by 11. My shuttle wasn’t scheduled until 3pm. I got to talking with this guy who shuttles cars between the two ends of the track for hikers. If he only has one car to shuttle he runs back across the track to pick up his car, which takes him about 5 hours. He offered to give me a ride to Te Anau. As we pulled out of the parking lot there were two hitchhikers who turned out to be these German doctors I’d met the night before, so he gave them a ride as well. Later in the evening I ran into the German doctors again in Te Anau and they told me they were camping in the backyard of the hostel. I can’t visualize my doctor doing this. I need a new doctor.