Still going with the wind
Raising a family – as well as a few other creatures – on a small cruiser. Cramped, yes. But boring? Never.
Long-time readers may L recall my story on Kerstin Novero (now Mueller) and her yacht Tara some 11 years ago. Back then, it was Kerstin’s indomitable will, along with the boat’s name, that prompted the title of my story – Going With the Wind – a play on Margaret Mitchell’s novel Gone With The Wind.
And it’s uncanny how the last 11 years of Kerstin’s life has mirrored that of the book’s fictional heroine, Scarlett O’hara.
Both have three children, both suffer hard times, both separate from husbands and both own something dear to their heart named Tara. Kerstin’s Tara is a 7.92m gaff-rigged cutter, and Scarlett’s is a 640-acre cotton plantation. For both Tara represents a refuge, a place to call home.
We left Kerstin in 2006, married to Crispin Novero, finishing off their newlylaunched Tara and teaching two-yearold Leo to walk. Then, their goal was a circumnavigation. While this goal hasn’t yet been achieved, Kerstin’s still afloat and far from swallowing the anchor.* LET’S RETRACE HER JOURNEY The Noveros left Auckland in mid-2006 and, after a two-year break in Napier to have their second child Maea, arrived in the Marlborough Sounds. The plan was to live aboard Tara while earning the funds for the circumnavigation. But the GFC had hit Picton and jobs were hard to get. With the birth of their third child, the family relocated to the West Coast where Crispin took a farming job. Tara went too.
“Rather than spend money on keeping the boat up here [Marlborough Sounds] we thought it would be cheaper to truck her to the farm and finish off the interior there,” says Kerstin.
But when Crispin lost his job Tara had to be moved to Greymouth while the family stayed with Kerstin’s parents in Reefton. The couple separated in 2011, but with three children to support, Kerstin had no resources to make Tara seaworthy and the yacht remained in the Greymouth fishing boat harbour.
“I’d pop down to see the boat regularly, but it was heartbreaking. It was basically as low as you can get in boating terms – watching your beautiful yacht going up
and down on big tides against a rough pier. But I did get a lot of help from the local fishermen.”
By now Kerstin’s goal was simply to return to a liveaboard lifestyle in the Sounds. Given her limited finances, even that more modest goal took two years to achieve.
But in December 2014, Kerstin, a friend and her two eldest children successfully sailed Tara over the infamous Greymouth bar, around the top of the South Island and into the welcoming arms of Queen Charlotte Sound.
“We had good weather, pretty much a dream run. The wind followed us around.”
Kerstin’s been based in the Sounds ever since and has no regrets as to her location.
“Look what we have here in New Zealand – people come from all over the world to see it [the Sounds]. It’s safe, yet challenging – an absolutely magical playground. For me it’s the ideal place to bring up kids.”
Kerstin recently relocated Tara from Queen Charlotte Sound to Keneperu Sound and I caught up them in Te Mahia Bay.
“We came around [to Keneperu] for a change of scenery, new places to explore and for the kids. There’s less of a boatie community here, but more kids so it’s better for them.”
It was the first time I’d been aboard Tara in 11 years and she’s held up well. For most sailors, the interior of a George Stadel Pilot 26 (see sidebar), would be cramped for one, let alone four.
There’s a V berth in the bow but as the cabin begins aft the mast this has limited headroom. Immediately aft the mast there’s a bucket head to starboard with storage opposite, while the rest of the cabin is occupied with twin settee berths.
A Origo 3000 meths cooker sits on a shelf over the starboard bunk while the numerous books required for schooling fill all spare space. Anyone coming aboard has to find a spot, sit down and stay put. But since the elderly Arona diesel inboard has been removed, there’s a little extra storage under the cockpit.
Despite the tiny space Tara has a compliant WC, a
bucket beneath a seat with a curtain for privacy. The bucket’s contents are taken ashore to a DOC toilet.
Largely because of the lack of refrigeration, the family mostly eats a vegetarian diet, along with eggs, beans and occasional wild meat obtained from hunting. Kerstin makes light of the undoubted difficulties.
“We usually moor up or anchor and go ashore. It’s only on the rainy days when it gets a bit hard; I struggle where to put the wet weather gear, the wet towels, the pots and pans.”
She’s also a passionate believer in keeping things simple.
“I like the simple, off-grid lifestyle. Once you have more and more systems on a boat you’re spending forever fixing them.”
Kerstin has obtained an exemption to homeeducate her children, meaning she’s responsible for
their education. This process is a distinctly different to Te Kura, formerly known as The Correspondence School. The numerous books, drawings and projects scattered throughout Tara show Kerstin’s taking this seriously.
“We do a flexible education process, based on the four Cs; critical thinking, communication, collaboration, and creativity. And it depends on the weather – if it’s wet we stay aboard and learn from books, if it’s fine we go ashore. That’s what I love about this lifestyle, the kids learn because they have to.”
Her children – Leo 13, Maea 11 and Marlo eight – obviously love the lifestyle. They’re sociable, articulate and show no signs of missing out on certain aspects of modern life such as phones, video games and TV. Indeed, some parents might consider the lack of electronics a blessing.
Kerstin moors Tara either on her own anchor or on various permanent moorings, moving the yacht to suit the weather and the day’s activities. She says the bracket-mounted Tohatsu outboard works well apart from when Tara’s side-on to a swell. In those conditions Kerstin prefers to leave the outboard on the inflatable, which lashed to the yacht’s side, gives far more responsive motoring.
While she would no doubt appreciate a bigger boat, she’s practical enough to appreciate the extra maintenance costs this entails, plus the added handling difficulties. But with Leo now aged 13, extra space is required and Kerstin’s pragmatic solution will be to buy a cheap boat for him.
“He’s pretty capable, so he can start having his own adventures. And if he wants to go to Wellington to study he can sail there and park up in Mana and he’s set.”
Kerstin’s finances are tight, and she augments the kitty by trapping possums for their fur. While she gets $110 a kilo for the fur, an average possum’s fur is only worth $5. Having been an possum skin trapper myself for a decade during the 1970s, I can assure readers anything to do with them is hard, smelly work.
Besides Kerstin and her children, Tara’s also home to cat Neko-chan (little cat in Japanese) and an orphaned possum,
Lucky, who was taken into the family after it was found in its mother’s pouch.
“I wanted to get rid of it, but the children wouldn’t let me,” says Kerstin ruefully. As to the future, her dreams have definitely changed. “Thirteen years ago I wanted to get out there and see the world before it all turned to custard – reefs dying, pollution – you name it. But now with global warming, cyclones and storms are getting worse. And then there are pirates; with three children I couldn’t imagine putting them at that risk. And I realise the boat’s a bit small for four people.”
So while the circumnavigation plan has been parked up, she’s achieved her dream of living on a boat, in a simple, low-impact way, in a wonderful environment and surrounded by family.
Gone with the Wind concludes with Scarlett O’hara, her life in tatters, moving back to Tara to regroup. The reader’s left with the impression O’hara will overcome her issues and rise again.
Kerstin too has been through deep struggles, has regrouped and is now stronger than ever. While others dream in armchairs, she’s out there living hers. And in a symbolic statement of new beginnings she’s recently renamed her yacht Kaewa, meaning to roam, to wander.
Roaming the Marlborough Sounds in a 7.92m yacht – interesting, yes; cramped, yes; challenging, yes; but boring – never. As she puts it:
“Being flexible and changing your plans isn’t failure, shoot for the stars and at least you’ll reach the top of the trees.”
* Swallow the anchor – an old term meaning to retire from sailing to live ashore. BNZ