In the dawns early light at the end of my night watch, the Three Kings Islands loomed to the west, while the Cape Reinga lighthouse still sparkled in the east. Last nights sailing breeze was short lived, though, and we spent most of Sunday rocking and slamming in the short seas over the islands' banks. A strong current set us north,too. Three days out, and still haunted by a clear view of New Zealand. The air about the good ship Mabel Rose was light on wind and heavy with frustration.

Which led to a late afternoon conversation that went something like this:

“We might not even get there until NEXT YEAR!”

“You have just been waiting to say that, haven't you?”

“Didn't you say it was ok to run the engine in order to get the boat to where there is wind?”

“That's, like, when there is a clear ridge causing the calm, and the only way to reach the wind is by crossing the ridge. I think that northwesterly is suppose to come our way if we wait. But, it's your watch, turn on the engine if you want - we still have a few gallons before we are down a quarter tank. On my watch, I was happy just enjoying a pleasant sunny day on the ocean. But if you want to burn some fuel, go ahead.”

“But how much sooner will we get the wind if we motor? What do the models say”

“I am not sure. And the models have all been wrong about the wind we actually had the last three days.”

But we downloaded more weather models, pored over the resulting charts, figured out that a light Northwest wind was expected at midnight if we stayed in place, and estimated that three hours of motoring might bring the wind one hour sooner. But also a little stronger.

So we turned on the engine at 1700 hours. By 1930 suppertime, a light northerly was indeed filling in and we were able to shut off the engine and dine to the twilight sounds of water gurgling in our still slow wake.

Oh, and I saw a whale today. I have been hearing what sounded like dolphin blows the last couple of days but never saw them. Today, I saw the long black back of a whale to go with the blow. I could not identify the species though - I saw no fin and the blow did not make any visible mist, just sound. Our onboard whalebook is not much help with so little to go on.

Now, at 0100 Monday, the breeze has really filled in, and we are making five knots through the water in the starlight. But still fighting a current. And Met Bob says to expect south winds at 20 gusting to 30 on Tuesday.