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| Bayswater Marina This is a file from the Wikimedia Commons. |
Bayswater Marina is located across the Waitemata Harbour from Auckland proper. For those familiar with the
great bays of the western United States, this is equivalent to living
in Sausilito, Berkeley or West Seattle. The view of the city skyline
to the south is stunning, the air is crisp and clean, the bay is full
ferries, small fishermen, and yachts at nearly all times of day.
The marina itself is a big half circle
dredged into the surrounding tidal low. It is stuck out on the end of
the thumb of the Bayswater peninsula. There is no protection from
prevailing wind and very little from large wakes generated by passing
ferries. This would prove problematic in a more aggressively nasty
climate, but in Auckland it is reasonably comfortable. The marina
hosts 7 docks and nearly 1200 boats ranging in size from the enormous
fishing trawler Tom to a swarm of small power boats.
Our marina hosts quite a few
liveaboards, including at least two other families with children.
Most of us are on docks F and G as these docks support larger craft
with attached water and power. They tell us we are extremely
fortunate to have a liveaboard slip in Bayswater. Unlike Seattle and
San Francisco where increasing NIMBY legal pressure is restricting
liveaboards, the problem here at Bayswater is simply one of
infrastructure. The shore facilities – laundry, showers, and
toilets – can only support so many liveaboards. The staff here
feels that we are more than a little over capacity, so they are
strictly restricting new boats and families and in fact have a very
long waiting list. We’re allowed only because I put our name on the
list over a year ago.
However tight we might have slid under
the deadline, the folks here have made us feel incredibly welcome.
While we are only beginning the process of getting to know our fellow
liveaboards, our relationships with the office staff, dock crew, and
harbour master are already strong and positive. The whole lot of them
are incredibly helpful, friendly, and supportive. Problems disappear
when I walk in the office and start chatting with Ed or Magdelena or
Kezia. I really like these people.
Which is good, because without a happy
dock crew, I fear Don Quixote would not be an easy boat to slide into
this marina. For one thing, we don’t fit. We never quite fit, but
here we really don’t fit. First, they put us in an 18 meter
catamaran slip way out at the end of the dock. Fantastically private
and with enough wind to keep us going 24/7 with all the lights on,
the computers plugged in and both fridges chugging away, it just
wouldn’t suit for the long haul. For one thing, the 10 minute walk
from deck to shore is fine in the mild spring and summer weather, but
I fear it would have been a heinous slog in winter sleet. More
importantly, they were charging us an 18 m price for that slip. We’re
an 11 m boat. We were almost paying double for the privilege of
privacy and a freezing walk.
So they kindly moved us all the way
from the outermost slip to the innermost slip. This is what happens
to catamarans. We get the outside or the inside. Now we are
practically under the dock ramp. This puts us directly under
everyone’s eye, including all the dock crew. Good and bad, right?
If we have to stretch, bend, or even break a few dock rules, we’re
going to get caught instantly. For example, technically we are not
supposed to dry our clothes on the boat. But, we want to hang the
towels for an hour or to dry after we use them. On F74, no one would
see. On F3, well it’s rather obvious, isn’t it. We look like Po'
White Boat Trash. Luckily, the staff is all Kiwi attitude all the
time. At least with drying, it’s hard to imagine why the “no dry”
rule was ever set up in the first place. This is a country where
drier ownership is considerably less than really big, fancy BBQ
ownership. But the best bit on this inner slip is the very short
walk, and did I mention ½ the cost? Dogz knows that if DQ breaks
free or starts to smoke, the entire marina will be on her in a second
to help.
The only real problem is that we are
wedged in so tight into this slip that we literally can not get in
and out on our own. We also shouldn’t – potentially even can’t
– get out on a low tide. I feel like a dumpy lady trying to fit
into a bridesmaid’s outfit two sizes two small. Maybe once I slide
my fat ass into the satin, I’ll look super good… or maybe I’ll
just look like mutton masquerading as lamb. To make matters more
absurd, the slip next to us has been converted from two slim slips
into one monster wide for the beauteous, brand new, blindingly clean,
14 meter catamaran P’zazz. She’s the bride, and she is dazzling.
If you’re thinking of spending a few
days or a week here, the facilities are pretty good for mariners.
Nice lounge, ferry to Auckland on the same dock as your boat, strong
(though moderately pricey) broadband wifi to your boat, super well
kept shower ($1/5 min) and laundry ($4/load wash, $4/20 min dry),
24/7 security and gated parking. The downside is that there are
absolutely no services within walking distance to Bayswater. We’re
at the end of a suburban desert. You can ferry into town or you can
take a bus, but there is no walking to get groceries. I can drive you
around, if you’d like, but not for too much longer. I really need
to get a job.
Speaking of jobs, Jaime immediately
found gainful employment with the marina. She is working every day
scrubbing decks and docks, cleaning the parking lot, and doing other
man-about-the-marina labour. Her boss and co-workers appear quite
happy with her work, and she is delighted to finally earn enough
pocket money to keep herself in the electronic and clothing style to
which she would like to become accustomed. It’s all good.