Sonja, Tracy and I arrived in New Zealand from South Africa about 3 years ago and battled to adjust to our new life here. Each one of us suffered from depression and lack of self esteem. We missed our friends and what we had left behind in South Africa.
Tracy, as kids do, adjusted pretty quickly. But us old ones took forever. I (Richard) still regularly wish that we had never left!
Life here in Wellington is very different to living in Johannesburg - a city of 10 million situated on a high altitude plain about 8 hours from the sea. My life centered around hang gliding - a few years ago we would head out to the local site twice a weekend and were only too happy when we could sneak off during the week for an extra flight! There was a cable way that we used to carry the gliders to the top of the hill, and we could store the gliders in the cable station. After flying we had a cuppa tea and snacks at the cable station's little shop. Another tea garden down the road even allowed us to use their pool. All my friends flew gliders, and we all started families at about the same time, so the wives knew each other. All very social.
When we arrived in Wellington we tied to 'hook up' with the local hang-gliding club. Turned out to be a total mistake. Flying in New Zealand was a very different story than in South Africa. It felt to like a lot of hard work for a very small reward. Lots of driving, organizing and hang waiting in the hope of a flight similar to a that of a winters day's in Johannesburg. So I ended up flying less, which dropped my skill level but increased my desire to have a 'good flight'. In frustration when I could get a flight I would push far beyond my limits. After a couple of close calls I realized that I would have to stop flying (or else). There is nothing like a close up of a high tension power line to help you to think straight!
Of course with that I lost my identity. I was Tracy's dad, Sonja's husband and someone who caught the train every day to work. But who was I?
Then one day, while Sonja and I were walking at Plimmerton, we saw the ugliest little yacht at the club. It was short, squat and looked a bit like a cross between a frog and a bulldog. When I looked closer at it I realized that it had all sorts of 'big boat' features. For instance - reefing - how many dinghies have reefing? This little boat was built to take it. Our first introduction to a Navigator.
We ended up chatting to John Chipper who told us that he was building one. Took us off to have a look at it and told us about the sister ship being up for sale. With a lot of encouragement from Sonja we took the step and bought it.
I was now a boat builder. Evenings were spent in the garage with a sander and paint brush. Hours were spent planning the next step. I was now watching the sea instead of just the sky. I had an identity!
In February of this year we launched bootstrap. We were now sailors.
Sonja and Richard with the Plimmerton Boat Club in the background.
Tracy enjoying herself on Wellingtons million dollar beach.
That's my Mom in the middle, who at the age of nearly 80, upped and came with us to New Zealand.
