17 November 2011

Oddly enough entry into Port Opua tomorrow appears assured, possibly before Quarantine, Customs and Immigration decamp for the day, and astonishingly as WAGed 12 days ago in required C1b "Inward Report (Small Craft)" and NZCS 340, "Advance Notice of Arrival" (behold UK inspired bureaucracy). Remaining fuel and forecast winds are critically, interdependently determinant. The latter varies from good to bad and back with each subsequent GRIB (Grievously Reprehensible and Inaccurate Bullflop) report. May avoid bad reports by not downloading any more after next suitable. That should work. In the immortal words of Harry Callahan, "Are ya feelin' lucky? Are ya punk?".

Meantime, we attempt to clean or cook and ingest all remaining meat, fruit, nuts and vegetables that will be confiscated, perforce, upon our arrival. In our selfless gesture of compassion to ease responsibility for hardworking New Zealand officialdom, tonight's feast will convey lamb sausage, eggplant and other delectable comestibles through alimentary systems and, by morning using apparatus and plumbing specifically designed for that very purpose, to the surrounding sea (One cannot be squeamish living on a sailboat). This is our civic duty and no show of gratitude will be necessary or expected.

Jack