02 August 2026 Auckland Run
Our family has a tradition of taking to the water in any major city we’re in for a fair while, and this is very true across Europe. Hence I did have quite a few runs on Lake Zürich from either end — Zürich and Rapperswil. Hitherto our boat rentals were on predictable territory, almost always Lake Zürich in Switzerland. A run there was familiar, but never boring.
Having being in Auckland for around half a month by now, we were thinking — how could we get our feet wet here? Although I was certainly a Trains guy, the magnificent views of the water — which always excited my wife, and increasingly me too, got me thinking — and more the Zürich way. We thought Auckland would be “just another city on the water” but what awaited us was an epic run I will never forget.
In very late July 2026, I started using AI, specifically Google’s Gemini service, to find if there were any places to take a boat out. (This came after I finally un-banned AI in May 2026, after early tries around 2022 on ChatGPT, and later on, Grok, turned out to be frustrating for me, myself also being made aware of the very real threats posed by this technology.) Auckland Boat Hire turned out to be a place to get them, and I emailed the rental company expressing an interest. Something in me told me I should also email them with a basic overview of who the driver — that’d be me — was, this being unfamiliar territory in a new land. Our boat rent request was greenlighted, and we were good to sail.
We met with the gentleman from the rental company fresh and early on 02 August 2026, after our sailing had been confirmed just the afternoon before. (This being the Southern Winter, we wanted to make sure the weather was fit — which it turned out to be more than that.) For the first time, we were handed a speedboat that could easily run at speeds many times faster than in Zürich, and I used this chance to break my personal maximum speed with ease. But before that, it was a serious look at the hull — and a check on just about everything. Far from bureaucratic, me and the renter, we took it seriously as a co-briefing — understanding how every switch worked, how not to get lost, which parts to keep well away from (we were headed to Half Moon Bay), how fast we were supposed to go, and details — and you know, to Swiss, that’s certainly something for us.
Although I had been slamming down the throttles in Zürich at the young age of 16, this rental in itself was not totally new to me — indeed, very elementary terms were not alien to me at all. (I was for a brief time a regular reader of Motor Boat and Yachting, before my parents found my obsession and, being from Mainland China, cracked down on it hard — only as authoritarians would, as I was preparing to sit my APs in Switzerland.) More importantly, as of late, within over half a million kilometres clocked in on the Chinese railways, my pre-launch obsession was not so much SENDING IT (as in make the boat jolt from zero to maximum in no time). China’s HSR trains (which extended into Hong Kong) were legendary for being smooth. In fact, I spent much of the wee hours of 02 August 2026 listening to — as a maximum rail geek — the noise of the engine on Hong Kong’s Vibrant Express, to get a feel of just how gradual the acceleration would be.
The sailing would be a fresh start to me. Everything was both new and familiar to me as a seasoned skipper. What was absolutely most exciting was the way we were headed — straight in the direction of the open ocean, think about it… (although we really did not go far!) To be honest, it was hard getting sleep before this journey as the whole thing was exciting — electrifyingly so, even. A great breakfast of a simple Vegemite sandwich with lots of Anchor butter kept me going for the full six hours — this is now an absolute, permanent pre-run requirement my end.
This being the first time we were handed a boat right from land and launching it in the water (remember that with previous runs, the boat was already primed and good to go), we just hiccuped a bit on launch, but soon we were moving in the water — and sailing smoothly, although carefully, out from Hobsonville Marina. Going to the harbour on land, the Auckland skyline was very clearly visible; in the water, it appeared to play hide-and-go-seek, but we soon headed towards “the bit between red and green poles”, and headed out.
On Lake Zürich, it was a “regulated free-for-all” at times, so we saw boats going pretty much everywhere. With me at the helm sat on the right, I thought it would be like on the roads, so on occasion we hugged, rather unconsciously, on the side we weren’t really supposed to be in (but still within the fairway). One thing we did learn, though, was a requirement to give way and be nice to sailboats — this would be tested by me minutes into our sailing, when I remembered a motor vessel actually started mixing in the sailboats — to my alarm, wondering if they were all right. (When we returned to Hobsonville, I gave the sailboat right next to me plenty of room, and dipped down to around 5 knots.)
I wasn’t quite aware how far we would go — but I was in no hurry to “send it” at maximum speed. We hugged the 5 knot limit for much of our journey through the Waitematā Harbour, avoiding controlled areas and AT ferries, and sailing carefully in the quarantine zone. Once we were beyond this part, speed was increased as we kept well clear of Bean Rock Lighthouse — as we were advised.
There were slight hiccups on our way to Half Moon Bay, including when we lost bearing, when the boat was apparently being “swept” off course by some slightly heavier than expected winds, and, amongst others, finding the approach to Half Moon Bay looking particularly shallow. I almost wanted to touch the water itself, seeing the sonar readings claiming we were “-1 metre” deep into the water — and repeated negative readings convinced me — in spite of Half Moon Bay not too far out (the idea was to get more fuel, and take a quick toilet break) — that we were far wiser heading back. So back it was, and, avoiding the buoys, we made it back — east of Achilles Point, in open water, I clocked the fastest run this sailing at 14.5 knots. Slight southeast of Rangitoto Island, we joined the main fairway back to Central Auckland, avoiding Bean Rock Lighthouse once again, and dipping our speed once we were in the main harbour.
The run was smooth — remember, at the helm was someone whom, “pampered” by the railways, settled for nothing less smooth handling, smooth speeds, and (absent some pretty random waves) smooth navigation. At one time, both the wife and son fell asleep — which actually elevated my alertness, as I was fully aware the worst way to jolt them would be — to have an incident. Eventually, they woke up to some world-class scenery by the Haruaki Gulf.
My sole frustration with the water was, in fact, how slow it all felt — and the fact that I couldn’t get exact distances, so there was an incredible lot of guesswork to do. Did I approach the ferry too close? How long would it take to get to Harbour Bridge? Super aware you can’t just sink massive signposts in the water (very much unlike the highway), there was some impatience my end as I looked towards the Harbour Bridge on the way back — half of me relived, on the water, in my mind, the legendary DHL ad Is It There Yet — as in “were we there yet”? Yet you could tell from my facial expression, I was far from agitated — indeed, I was savouring every moment of total control.
I’ve always been a “stick person”. I adamantly refused to get automatic cars — my wife helped me pick two cars I loved and still love, the VW C-Trek, and the Dongfeng Fengguang 580 (which ticked my boxes perfectly — six gears, and backseat air-conditioning for the wife). Since my 1998 runs, I’ve held to the throttle and it was all part of being on the water. This time, having a “full”, unrestricted throttle, I treated it with respect — but commanded it with an iron fist. It was pushed down and pulled up with clinical precision — at half-knots, to ensure we were never going too fast, or causing too much a nuisance to others.
By Harbour Bridge, a larger boat passed us, so there was a fair bit of wake. But preparation was key — pre-launch, I had already downloaded at least six iPhone apps, and done a fair bit of reading on how to handle wakes (an idea was to chop through it at 90°, although now I’ve reduced it to 70° or so). “Chopping” over the waves neutralised their impact on our boat, making for safer sailing (although it was still felt on our hull).
We returned slightly ahead of time. Incredibly, the run was so exciting, nobody actually used the public conveniences, and apart from a quick snack and drink, we forgot lunch — as this ‘private sailing’ showed us a part of Auckland you usually don’t get to see from those touristy buses! At the dock, there were a few moments when I wasn’t sure if I aligned up properly, as well as a bit of manoeuvring, but ultimately, we were safe back on terra firma. After a final post-run check, we were in the clear. As it was running rather late, we celebrated with a Venti Cappuccino at the Starbucks by Kakano Road — they were open for a bit.
There was a lot of lived experiences and also learning from the water. I certainly want to this again, but as there was a lot that was new to me, my “RTFM” (read the flippin’ manual) attitude meant that I took NASBLA and PCOC online tests and got these licences within days of this run, so my next run would see me much more aware of the rules, and hopefully, a more alert and respectful skipper. 🛥
Leave a Reply