Mike Mate

It took Steve (the imp), Vimm (the cleaner) and me (mikemate) six hours to sew
up, by hand, the rip in the main sail.  During this time a high pressure system
enveloped us and the sea went all glassy.  But now the main and genoa are set
before a strengthening NE’ly wind (associated with the edge of the high).  It is
great sailing in the roaring forties but brrrr, its cold. I’m dressed in merrino
longjons, polyprop others, sea boots, pants, jacket and it is still unbearably
cold – especialy between the hours of midnight and four – there’s no meat on my
bones.  This morning I ended my watch with my sleeping bag wrapped over my
shoulders to keep out hypothermia.  The days are ok, but the nights – brrr.

Captain Henk story time
Twenty five years ago Henk joined the baltic trader, Fri, in Amsterdam – his
first boat.  He sailed on her for three years before transfering to the Rainbow
Warrior – where he learned to weld whilst fitting masts and sailing rig to the
old fishing boat.  It was the historic voyage, in 1985, where Rainbow Warrior,
whilst crossing the Pacific, evacuated the inhabitants of Rongalap island in the
Bikini Atol (Americans had destroyed paradise there with a bomb) and then went
on to Auckland to prepare for a demonstration against France nuclear testing on
Muroroa.  Henk was still on board as assistant engineer when the Rainbow Warrior
docked in peaceful nuclear-free New Zealand, when the French Secret Service
planted two bombs on her hull and sunk her.  But this morning Captain Henk told
me about his adventure organising the flotilla in the Irish Sea sailing against
Plutonium carried on board the Pacific Pintail and Pacific Teal.

The afternoon dog-watch was bliss.  All by myself as the rest of the boat slept
- sails set and stayed trim throughout – I imagined the rest of my life under
canvas.  But the night watch wasn’t as much fun.  By  nightfall it was overcast
and drizzling and very very cold.  First there was a blessing; from out of the
miserable dank the familiar “whizzzz” and there, traveling an arms reach beside
me, was the curved dorsal fin of a dolphin…and it was gone.  Next came a thump
that I assosiated with the dolphin but instinct turned my head to the main sail.
There was a sliver of silver in the main, the moon was just starting to poke
through the clouds but had gone a bit far to poke through the sail too.  I
grabbed the flashlight and shone it on the sail – it was ripped in half.  Time
to call captain Hank.  We struck the sail and started the engine, blast.

Watches are set and mine is twelve-to-four (the dog watch). Tiama rolls, sways,
yaws, heaves and we all go with her – up and down. It has taken a bit of
getting used to, but Henk – who’s been doing this for years – admits that he
feels queezy for the first day or two, every time he goes out. Feeling queezy,
I managed to cook a good pot of mung-dahl to feed us all for dinner – bracing
myself into the galley as I chopped and pealed. Despite there being no ginger on
board and, in my opinion a lack of vegetables, the fare (my first test) turned
out yummy. Vimm did the washing up.

There are four of us on board Tiama. Hank, who bent the steel, welded it
together and fitted it for Arctic expeditions. He wears his long blond hair
tied up in a pony, an earring marks him as a Cape Horner. His brother, Vim, is
with us – ordinarily he runs a cleaning business back in the Netherlands. Then
there is Steve, a young man who has been at sea for ten years, who wears a
striped sailors shirt and no shoes. He’s spritly as an imp. I make up number
four and for this voyage I’m wearing a different hat – my hair is growing long
and I’m sporting a beard. We set sail this morning and have a good westerly
blowing us towards the Antipodes. Only the wind.

I am joining a yacht called Tiama and sailing from Bluff to Antipodes.  It will take just over a week to return.  My bag is packed and in amongst the clothes are a few herbs and spices.  I’ll be expected to share the cooking on this run.  Four of us go down and seven come back.  The three extras returning will be ornithologists who’ve spent the summer down there counting birds… as they do.  I’ll most certainly put a story together about it upon my return and send it out to those of you who’ve signed up to my google group “Mike Writes”.

I spent four weeks on Waiheke island.  I went to the beach, went to the gym – remembered how to walk.  Now I am in Nelson, on the South Island, and have stocked up with merino, possum and silk to keep me warm – I’m going tramping.  I’m also heading to Bluff, to join Tiama, and from there will sail to the Antipodes  leaving  on Monday 25 Feb.  I will post blogs when at sea again, and write a story too sometime.  My last story (about Palm Oil and the Rainbow Warrior) I posted over a month ago.  I’ve changed my google-group name from Mike’s Week to mikewrites.  You can sign up to receive email updates, but you’ll need to adjust your spam filter or they’ll be blocked.  This is the link: http://groups.google.com/group/mikewrites