Opua to Southport via Ball’s Pyramid and Lord Howe Island
The Call
Murray, Janine’s brother, rang back in December. Did Daryl want to help deliver a boat from Opua to Australia?
He said yes before the question was finished.
Janine had some thoughts about this.
Getting There
The flight to Kerikeri was delayed by a thunderstorm that had other ideas about Auckland Airport’s schedule. Murray collected Daryl from the airport and took him to the boat. Daryl slept aboard that first night — which sounded better than it was. The front hatch was open against the diesel smell. At 1:30am a lightning storm arrived with no warning. Rain poured through the hatch onto the forward berth.
Monday was spent filling extra diesel into tanks and getting the boat ready. The diesel smell did not improve. The evening was quiet: dinner with Murray’s family, an early night, and the knowledge that customs clearance was at 8:30 the following morning.
Tuesday — Departure (21 April)
We started the day with French toast, collected the prepared meals and boarded the boat. Only later did we discover the beef rendang had been left behind.
Cleared customs and departed Opua at 8:30am. The plan was simple: run up the east coast of New Zealand, slip into Tom Bowling Bay at the top of the North Island for the night, then cross the convergence of the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean in daylight. The east coast was flat and unhurried. The sunsets at East Cape were the kind that make you forget you have a destination.
Tom Bowling Bay didn’t happen. Customs told us no anchoring, so we kept going — into the dark, into the convergence, where the water doesn’t quite know what it wants to be. By the time the two oceans had made their feelings clear, there were 3.5 to 4 metre swells on the rear quarter and 25 knots of wind.
We crossed at night.
Wednesday — The Middle of Nowhere
Little sleep. Swells still running hard. An albatross appeared above the crests in the morning — wings out, doing nothing, going everywhere. We had coffee. Things improved slightly.
Wednesday night added a new development. At 2:30am, water in the diesel filter had to be drained. Stopped the engine, drained the water. The engine refused to restart. Murray jumped into the engine bay to sort it. Daryl hand-steered — manually, in pitch black, on a moving boat with limited steering authority, in the middle of the Tasman Sea — for 45 minutes while Murray worked.
The engine restarted.
Murray’s view: be comfortable with being uncomfortable.
Daryl noted this was easier to say from the engine bay.
Thursday — Foot Down
After refuelling the internal tank — emptying a thousand-litre bladder into the main tanks, which also freed up the watermaker, which meant actual showers — we made a decision. The gap to Lord Howe was still significant. The swells had eased to 3.5 metres with 20 knots of wind behind them. The boat, now lighter at the stern, was keen to run.
We put the foot down.
Surfing 3.5 metre waves on a 55-foot surfboard at 20 knots is not something the brochure prepares you for. The swells were running in two directions, creating standing waves that broke at the peaks and looked, from the helm, like a field of small mountains moving sideways across the ocean. The hull would lift, pause at the crest, then accelerate down the face. The GPS numbers climbed. Nobody complained.
Australian Border Force had other plans. They’d been booked in for Monday morning — which put three and a half days of sea time between them and arrival. So we throttled back.
Friday night gave us flatter water, no wind, and little moon. At some point after midnight the moon set and the sea went completely black. Only the instruments. Only the sound of the hull lifting on a wave and the rush of acceleration in the dark — surfing at 16 knots without being able to see anything except the numbers climbing on the chartplotter. A different kind of exhilarating.
Saturday — Ball’s Pyramid
Ball’s Pyramid appeared on the horizon at dawn. By the time we were close, the context was clear: 561 metres of sheer volcanic rock rising straight from 1,400 metres of deep ocean, no ledge, no beach, nothing but vertical face from waterline to summit. Grogu watched from the dashboard. Dolphins joined the bow wave for the final approach.
It does not look real.
We cruised a full circle around the base. You cannot land at Ball’s Pyramid because Ball’s Pyramid will not allow it. We were aware of that, close up, in a rolling Tasman swell with the rock filling the windscreen.
We didn’t say much and then headed to Lord Howe Island.
Lord Howe Island
Lord Howe is eleven nautical miles northwest of Ball’s Pyramid and belongs to a different world entirely — lagoon, reef, mountains, the kind of island that looks designed. We couldn’t land there either; customs had jurisdiction and timing wasn’t on anyone’s side.
We cruised up the western side anyway. Then turned northwest toward Southport.
Surfing down a wave Murray broached the boat. Daryl, sleeping, went flying off the bunk. Worse, so did the coffee machine — landing in pieces on the galley floor. Thankfully repairable, and coffee remained on the menu.
Sunday — The Run to Southport
Two days to the Gold Coast from Lord Howe. After everything — the swells, the night crossings, the engine at 2:30am, the standing waves — the Tasman delivered its final evening as a gift. When it was not raining.
Half-metre swell from the rear quarter, almost no wind, the boat surfing gently in the dark at 12 to 16 knots under a sky with no moon, just instruments. The boat alive under you, the bow lifting, that surge of speed.
Exhilarating.
Debbie Harry and Queen on the stereo.
Arriving at Southport there were waves breaking on the bar. Murray decided to demonstrate what the boat could actually do. Following a set of waves into the Southport Harbour entrance, the GPS read 19 knots. Not surfing. Just moving.
Lines on at Southport at 7:00am, 27 April. Spot on time.
Customs at a civilised hour. Then Brisbane, daughter for lunch, and a flight home to Auckland. He slept on the plane.
The Final Tally
- Distance: ~1,170 nautical miles
- Days at sea: 6
- Extra diesel: 800 litres, in hand-emptied bladder tanks
- Things forgotten to bring: 2 (sleeping bag, towel)
- Engines lost at 2:30am: 1
- Engines recovered: 1
- Maximum speed surfing: 20 knots in 3.5m swell
- Maximum speed into Southport: 19 knots (not surfing)
- Albatross sightings: several
- Dolphin escorts to Ball’s Pyramid: confirmed
- Crew members broached off their bunk: 1
- Coffee machine lost and recovered at sea: 1
- Pre-cooked meals remaining: 0
- Beef rendang recovered: 0
- Permission to land at Ball’s Pyramid: irrelevant
Janine’s thoughts: idiotic.
