Sailing with Nine of Cups

Up early again, before dawn to retrieve our shore lines and haul the dinghy. The weather forecast sounded good for another move south...this time to Preservation Inlet, the most southern fiord in Fiordland. We left as soon as there was enough light to navigate. There was heavy fog and will'o'the'wisps in some places and at times the sun cut through in shards...a beautiful sight. Breaksea Sound is one of those fiords that connects with others...in this case Dusky Sound via Acheron Passage. Once in Dusky, we kept a close watch for big logs and floating debris as we wended our way through a maze of rocks, islets and heavily-treed islands. After not seeing another vessel in over a week, we were surprised to see the huge cruise ship, Sun Princess, heading into Dusky Sound as we were leaving. We chatted with them a bit, making sure they saw us. They were heading up Dusky and out Breaksea and then to Milford Sound before heading back to Australia.

It was a long 52-mile passage today. Not much wind, but the SW swells fought with the W/NW swells making confused seas and nauseous sailors. We sailed past the white cliffs of Chalky Inlet and figured out why it got its name. Birds were absolutely everywhere. Dozens of albatross and hundreds of petrels, sooty shearwaters, gulls and terns...some flying and rafts of others, floating on the waves. We could see Puysegur Point in the distance as we made our turn into Preservation Inlet. This area at the bottom of the world has been a busy place in the past as a station for sealing and whaling as well as gold and coal mining.

We anchored in Cuttle Cove, the site of an old whaling station. The forecast called for light northwesterlies and we thought this swing anchorage would be ideal. We launched the dinghy and landed on a steep, smooth, stony beach at mid-tide. The sandflies were aggressive despite our having slathered with repellent before leaving the boat. Did we ever really talk about sandflies? They're similar to no- see'ums or black flies in Maine. They're tiny, little black flying critters with huge appetites for us humans. Once they bite you, the welt itches and stings for days and sometimes develops into a sore that lasts for weeks. They swarm in huge clouds and with enough insect repellent, all they do is annoy you to insanity with their buzzing and swarming around your face and hands. They get up your nose and in your ears and in your eyes...no place is safe unless it's totally covered. We've had bites half way up our legs where they've managed to get in over the top of our boots and up our pant legs. They have some sort of super communication system...scent or heat...but in what seems to be a pleasant, bug-free anchorage, they'll overtake you in just seconds.

While beachcombing, we found a plaque commemorating the whaling station 1829-1836 on the west end of the beach. We also found several paua shells and an inordinate number of perfect sea urchin shells. A large colony of oystercatchers shrieked at us as well as an intrusive seagull until they were left alone.

Returning to Cups, we listened to the updated weather forecast. Big change! The light northwesterlies were now to be 40-50 kts north tending to west by mid-day tomorrow...an advancing front that "advanced" a bit quicker than previously anticipated. This was not an adequate anchorage for us. We were up-anchor in a flash and moving to an all-weather anchorage about 5 miles away...Isthmus Cove. We dropped the anchor in 40' and tied two warp lines to shore around sturdy trees. We're feeling much more secure and to add to the positive vibes, David found mussels for dinner.