One week in: the things I’ve learnt

We’ve entered a time warp. I can’t believe it’s been seven days since we first rolled off the barge to become D’Urville Islanders. In some ways, it’s whizzed past in a blur of unpacking boxes, exploring, and getting to know the Island natives; in other ways, it may just as well have been a lifetime!

In this week full of discoveries, here are some of the things I’ve come to realise will shape our Island lives—not all of which I was expecting!

1. Days of the week no longer matter

It’s a bit like being on holiday, only this is our real life. Daily someone asks the question, ‘what day is it?’ and then we all spend a few minutes working it out. As Rowan pointed out, ”The only day that’s different is Tuesday because that’s when we get the mail,” — but even this is unreliable as we didn’t pick up our mail until Thursday this week!

2. I don’t always know where my children are, and that’s okay

They know their boundaries and off they go. Exploring, socialising, looking for treasure on the beach, building dens. In and out of the house. Sometimes I go with them, sometimes Danny and I go for a walk by ourselves, sometimes I get jobs done, sometimes I play my guitar. It’s strange feeling, like I’m finding my own new boundaries and reminding myself that I am not solely responsible for their fun. (It’s worth mentioning that my children are 10, 12 and 15 – not toddlers).

3. It’s possible for it to be colder inside a house than it is outside

In this experience, I know we’re not alone in all of Kiwidom, but yep, the beautiful wooden Victorian villa we are living in, with its lofty 10ft stud, suffers badly from ‘it’s-bloody-cold-itis’. It’s not helped by the fact that the cold sinks to the valley floor behind and then funnels through our draughty glazing.

But all is not lost! We have a fire in the kitchen and plenty of wood, we have layers of fleece, and I have a hat I never thought I’d enjoy wearing so much. Also, the inside climate gives us an incentive to be out of the house, because it’s actually warmer outside—I wanted that outdoorsy lifestyle, right? And as long as I remember to take my concrete pills and harden up, it’s all good.

Still, there are some days where two pairs of socks just don’t cut it!

4. Forget the mono-diet, bring on the mono-wardrobe

Trackpants, vest, long sleeve merino, woolen jumper, hat. And repeat. It’s the practical Island way—warm, comfy, easy for any job and, most importantly, mud durable. I look at the few items of ‘smart’ clothing (jeans for instance) that survived the pre-island purge, and wonder wistfully whether I’ll ever wear them again. I mean, who’s even to know?

5. My super fussy eater likes mussels

This one’s a bit of a revelation actually. Rowan won’t eat two of the childhood classics: tomato sauce and jam—or any food that’s been remotely contaminated with either. Yet, our first morning on the beach he collected a couple of the biggest mussels I’ve ever seen and wondered if he could cook them. He’s since been cooking and eating them every day. Go figure?

6. It’s possible to go a week without spending a cent

No buying food, no fuel, no bills, no essential kid supplies they’ll never use, no indulgent treats, no junk, no nothing. And it’s not boring. Of course, when we go into town we’ll be making up for it—and resupplying all at once will cost a small fortune no doubt. But still, it’s a weird feeling not having anywhere physical to pop to and spend money, or any immediate need or desire. Quite relaxing really.

7. Fuel is the most precious thing we own—no really

We get mail once a week and food can be delivered, but once fuel is out, it’s out. The nearest gas station is a barge ride and drive away—which makes for a very high cost per gallon if you factor in travelling expenses. We sensibly brought some fuel with us, but use of it has to be measured and weighed against priorities. No zipping off for a change of scene—thank goodness because these tracks ain’t made for zipping.

8. We need to buy a boat

This is the last realisation I’ve had this week, and possibly the most crucial (and expensive). Danny was eying up boats before we came over to D’Urville just as fast as I was dismissing them as just another ‘toy’ we didn’t need to throw money at. Boy was I wrong—my husband loves that fact.

Okay, in terms of dire need, a boat isn’t essential. But it would be very handy. Why? Fish for one thing, there’s lots of them here. And secondly, I now know that exploring is not going to happen solely by ute. Most of this vast, beautiful coastline—and there’s some of the best in the world around here—is simply not accessible by car.

As an added bonus, and extra justification in our minds, we could always use a boat to ‘nip’ over to the mainland for fuel (I say the word ‘nip’ because I don’t think crossing one of NZ most dangerous sections of water is ever going to be an effortless walk in the park—more on that later).

So there you go, my first impressions that I think will make for interesting times ahead! I didn’t quite realise how soon we’d be acting on that last point though….