Chop Chop

The permanent staff have now been on the island for eight months and us vollies for three. As you can imagine the neatly-trimmed locks are no more and we’re all starting to look like we did in the sixties (those of us who were alive, then). So it was tidy up time for Craig and Gareth.

Was there kicking and screaming? Not much!The finished product would have delighted any mother and there’s only one of those on the island at the moment.

Raoul Island Paper Aeroplane Day

Before Gaye and I left the mainland we called in to a Takapuna bookshop to stock up on reading material for the island. One book that caught my eye was the World Record Paper Airplane Book– plans, pre-cut models and much, much more.

At just $5 it was a bargain too good to miss, so it came with us and has been donated to the library.

We decided to ensure it was read by presenting a trophy for the best endurance flight of a paper dart from the flagpole.

Johnny B launches forth

It was a keenly contested event on Monday afternoon, with most of the island’s residents exercising their option to enter six separate models. The planes themselves represented a stunning range from design genius to totally naive optimism. Some were five minute knock-ups and others had been labours of love for many lonely evenings prior to the competition.

Unfortunately the conditions proved challenging, even with the natural launching advantage of a cliff top 100 feet high. We had strong gusty southerlies blowing, which meant a tailwind launch into rotor.

Gina's effort

Gaye chose a Cessna

Dave's hi-tech machine

Chauncy's effort

Bas lets fly

It proved too much for some of the models with their flights measured in milliseconds rather than minutes, but Craig took the title with an impressive 13.59 sec flight. He used a recycled conventional dart.

Craig and trophy

What did we learn?

1. Timing is everything.
2. Simple is always best.
3. A university education counts for very little in such events.

Medevac

Sunday started early with movement beginning to happen around here at 5am.

We expected the helicopter at dawn but it had a mishap; the paramedic felt unwell over White Island on the journey out, and had to be returned to the mainland. The two Taupo-based pilots set out a second time and the clattering helicopter blades announced their arrival here at 9.50am.

It had been decided that we would collect Holger, the ill sailor Marika’s husband, from their yacht so he could bring ashore her bag and see her off.

That was no small task, as launching a boat from Raoul means at least a couple of hours of preparation. We have to get the inflatable out of storage, warm the motor up, drive it 3kms to Fishing Rock, attach it to the foxway wire, run it down to sea level, attach it to the derrick and swing it out into the water. There is no natural launch spot or even a safe mooring on the island.

The boat on the way down via foxway...

....and into the water on the derrick

An added problem was the question of what would happen to the yacht Pytheas while Holger was ashore. No boats are permitted to be left unattended here as rapid weather changes can lead to disaster. Our solution to this was to leave Bas there as boatsitter – he is an experienced sailor and aspiring boat owner so it was a win-win situation as far as he was concerned.

Bas's dreams come true

With the pilots fed and watered, the helicopter refuelled and Marika all psyched up, they finally left at 11.30am. Luckily for us, Gaye was not needed as an escort this time. Marika was flown to Tauranga hospital that evening, where she was admitted and her difficulties seen to.

The helicopter prepares for the long trip back to Tauranga

The two yachts sailed north this morning and hopefully all concerned will be reunited in Fiji, when Marika is well again.

In yet another weird coincidence, all this drama was accompanied by three house-rattling earthquakes. The largest was 5.6 on the Richter scale, 31.7 km deep, centred 70km south of us.

Exactly the same thing happened last time someone was helicoptered off the island.

Déjà vu all over again

On Friday afternoon Craig trotted off to Denham Bay for a quiet weekend away from it all. Last time he made this trip, GNS man Andrew had his accident and had to be medevaced off the island by helicopter.

This morning the HMNZS Canterbury loomed into view, with the intention of slowing up slightly as their Seasprite helicopter dropped us some supplies, then carrying on to Samoa for manoeuvres once their chopper was back on deck.

Unfortunately, one of the two yachts anchored off our southern coastline called for medical assistance right about the time the Canterbury made its appearance. They don’t have a doctor on board, so the only one for a thousand kilometres in all directions was pressed into action once again.

Seasprite in action today

Yes, our own DOC doc, Gaye.

This meant the Seasprite had to pick her up as the Canterbury circled the island in order to heave-to close to the yachts. They landed on the ship, while the ill sailor was retrieved from her yacht by the Canterbury's small boat.

Gaye is now on first name terms with some of the Canterbury crew, having sailed back here with them after her last adventure with a medevac.

Further tests were made on the warship and it was decided an evacuation was necessary, so Gaye and patient were flown back on to the island in order for that to be arranged (manouevres can't wait).

The unwell sailor is staying with us. The medevac helicopter leaves from the mainland for Raoul at midnight tonight and will arrive here at dawn, while Canterbury steams on to sunny Samoa.

Tomorrow afternoon, Craig will walk back in from Denham Bay and say, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

Scurvy? Not likely!

It has been quite a while since the last official re-supply here on Raoul so our supplies of mainland fruit and vegetables are slowly dwindling away to nothing. Luckily, though, there is a ready source of fruit in the shape of citrus trees, some of them planted here as long ago as 1840.

One of the early settlers, Tom Bell, brought his family to Raoul to settle at a time when the only contact with the outside world was through passing whalers and the odd island trader. The Bells were plagued by misfortune in the early part of their stay here, enduring abandonment, isolation, eruptions, earthquakes, voracious rats, ferocious storms and the theft of all their valuables by passing vagabonds.

In the 1880s the captain of a visiting island trader the Richmond left a case of Tahiti oranges with the Bells and each of the pips was saved and planted. More than a hundred of the resulting trees still survive in an orchard not far from the hostel where we live. The trees are huge now and their fruit is delicious although we find ourselves competing with the birds in the race to get to one that falls.

In 1996, botanist Carol West started collecting budwood and cuttings from the trees here, recognising that the cultivars are a very old and potentially valuable source of genetic material. They may even be a “missing link” through to some very early cultivars that emerged from Asia.

Oranges alternate with the gigantic grapefruit in our front garden as the kick-start drink of the day, freshly squeezed at breakfast. What better beginning could you have?

For Exercise! For Exercise! For Exercise!

When we travelled up here with the Navy, each of their various dramas began with this announcement.

Blood! I'll show you blood!

Yesterday was our day for similar scenarios.

Dave responds to the question "How bad is the pain?"

First Dave sustained a compound fracture to his tibia while listening to heavy metal music on the beach,

The stretcher party heads for hospital

then one of the parcels that arrived on the yacht caught fire while Gaye was opening it in her room. So we had a medevac and a fire emergency all in one day - lots of fun all round!

Chauncy arrives in his own fire engine

and the blaze is extinguished (below)

Good News!

Good news! The Campaign ( a passing yacht) dropped in two fish bins of mail and parts for broken down machines.

Thanks, Tony!

The goodies included my replacement underwater camera - thanks, Tony! In celebration we jumped in with Big Boy the grouper and his mate after we had seen off the yachties, and I put the new camera through its paces.

Big Boy the grouper

Gareth

Gina pats Big Boy

As an extra bonus I discovered my wetsuit had expanded in the weeks we have not been in the water, so it was MUCH easier to wriggle in and out of....