Once this latest burst of weather passes, we’ll be squarely into the cooler months. What’s ahead? A quick look at the extended weather forecast finds a wet winter. Winter 2025 is shaping up to be one of those damp, brooding seasons where the horizon always seems just a little misted over.
As April slides into May, and with it the driving weather, the boat ramps have emptied. Those once-busy days filled with launches and yachts driving past us in Whangamata Harbour in their escape to the summer weather beyond, have fallen silent. For many, it’s the end of the boating season. But not for everyone. For the bluewater-ready crews, the adventurers who don’t mind the cold or the quiet (or the wet), this is when it really begins.
Autumn and winter boating in New Zealand isn’t about ticking off miles. It’s about slowing down. There’s no rush to chase holiday weather, no school calendars to plan around. The cyclone season should be mostly behind us, and spring’s weather tantrums haven’t yet returned. It’s the perfect time for a more mindful kind of cruising — where the journey is just as much about the pause as the passage. When solitude becomes part of the appeal.
In this feature, we take a regional look at some of New Zealand’s most remote and peaceful autumn anchorages. These aren’t the spots that make the glossy postcards — they’re the places you go when you want to drop anchor and disappear for a few days. Even if the weather turns and you end up spending more time reading below deck than exploring, they’re worth the trip.
Northland: Kaipara Harbour, Whangaroa and Whangaruru
Northland’s autumn anchorages offer a quiet kind of magic — wild, weathered, and often overlooked. From the vast, tidal reaches of Kaipara to the sheltered cliffs of Whangaroa and the understated calm of Whangaruru, this is where solitude meets raw coastal beauty, perfect for the off-season cruiser seeking space.
Kaipara isn’t for everyone — and that’s exactly the appeal. For skippers with bar-crossing experience and an eye on the charts, it’s a world apart. Entry requires care, but once inside, it’s vast, tidal, and astonishingly quiet. The upper reaches around Pahi and Pouto feel more like estuary exploring than classic coastal cruising.
Over on the east coast, Whangaroa shines in autumn. Its steep-sided coves shield you from the worst of the sou’westerlies, and tucked into Rere Bay or Lane Cove, you may well be the only boat around.
Further south, Whangaruru is often overlooked, but come May, it’s an ideal retreat. Good holding, lush hills, and when the swell’s down, the beaches at Ohawini and Te Uenga are well worth stretching your legs on.
Coromandel East Coast: Port Charles, Little Bay, and Kennedy Bay and Harataunga Stream
The eastern side of the Coromandel feels a world away. Port Charles, Little Bay, Kennedy Bay, and the Harataunga Stream offer a remote, rugged coastline rarely busy even in peak season. In autumn, it’s quieter still — a place for slow cruising, estuary exploring, and anchoring where the road ends.
This stretch of the eastern Coromandel feels like it’s slipped out of time. We explored it in early summer 2024 when it was still a little chill, and the same essence holds: it’s wild, quiet, and under the radar.
Port Charles is your northernmost stop before rounding Cape Colville, and it’s a good one. Large, well-sheltered, and with deep holding, it’s a popular staging point for cruisers either heading north to the Gulf or south along the east coast. There’s space to anchor even when the swell’s up, and plenty of room to ride out a blow. The DOC reserve along the coast offers good walking, and if the wind drops, you’ll often wake to glassy water and the odd kingfisher hunting along the rocks.
Little Bay is even more tucked away. It’s often overlooked, which makes it perfect for those who want to be alone. There’s space to anchor, good walking ashore, and on calm evenings, the place feels almost enchanted. No road noise. No crowds. Yes, a splattering of houses in amongst the occasional flock of oystercatchers or a splash from the shallows.
Port Charles is your northernmost stop before rounding Cape Colville, and it’s a good one. Large, well-sheltered, and with deep holding, it’s a popular staging point for cruisers either heading north to the Gulf or south along the east coast. There’s space to anchor even when the swell’s up, and plenty of room to ride out a blow. The DOC reserve along the coast offers good walking, and if the wind drops, you’ll often wake to glassy water and the odd kingfisher hunting along the rocks.
Just south, Kennedy Bay is broad and open with decent holding in settled conditions. It’s a no-frills kind of anchorage — no shops, patchy mobile coverage — but that’s also its charm. It feels genuine, unpolished. If you’re after a quiet night and a long horizon, it delivers.
Harataunga Stream adds something different. If conditions allow, you can run a tender up the stream and land near an old mill site. From there, explore regenerating bush tracks that feel a world away from the beach towns over the hill. Kererū flap overhead, and if you pause long enough, you’ll start to hear the bush settle around you.
This part of the coast feels cut off, in a good way. There are no shops here, and coverage is patchy. Stock up at Whitianga before rounding Cape Colville — it’s your last real chance to provision.
Aotea / Great Barrier Island: Smokehouse Bay, Kaiarara, and Kiwiriki
Great Barrier in autumn is all about stillness and solitude. With the crowds gone, anchorages like Smokehouse Bay, Kaiarara, and Kiwiriki settle into a slower rhythm. Hot baths, damp forest walks, and quiet evenings framed by birdsong — it’s the perfect season to enjoy the island’s wild charm without interruption.
By late May, Port Fitzroy quietens. The summer crowd has moved on, and what remains are dusky anchorages and cool forest walks. Smokehouse Bay remains a favourite — few things beat a wood-fired bath after a brisk tender ride. You can also cook a pizza in the pizza oven. Around the bay, tui call through the bush, and ruru start early. Take a moment to read about our earlier journey and stay to Smokehouse Bay.
Kaiarara and Kiwiriki offer excellent shelter and still water. (We sheltered here during the volcano eruption in Tonga in 2022.) Kaiarara in particular is a good jumping-off point for inland hikes, and if you’re lucky, you’ll spot pāteke foraging along the streams.
You’ll need to bring everything with you — food, water, and matches. The old drying racks at Smokehouse Bay don’t see much use in autumn, but the firewood bins still need topping up, which you can do by foraging in the bush behind the long-drops.
Hauraki Gulf: Te Kouma, Waimate Island, and Long Bay
This side of the Coromandel Peninsula looks across the Firth of Thames and Hauraki Gulf, and it offers some of the most reliable anchorages in the region — especially useful in fresh easterlies. The waters are more protected than the east coast, and while they don’t have the same surf or raw exposure, they’re practical, scenic, and rich with history.
Te Kouma Harbour is one of the most popular anchorages on this side. Well protected in almost any wind direction, the harbour offers a maze of inlets, coves, and tucked-away spots. Sugarloaf Wharf marks the commercial corner, but once you’re deeper inside, it’s peaceful and green. Good holding, room to swing, and safe dinghy landings make it a favourite for family cruisers and anyone looking for a break from the open water.
Just offshore, Waimate Island (also known as Waimate Reef) is a must-see at low tide. The reef creates a rich feeding ground for seabirds and snapper alike. You’ll need to anchor off and dinghy over — it’s not an overnight spot — but if you’re into fishing, snorkelling, or birdwatching, it’s worth a detour. On a calm day, the visibility around the reef is surprisingly clear, especially for this side of the coast.
Long Bay, just around ‘the corner’ from Coromandel Harbour, makes for a great stop. It’s a wide, shallow bay with a gentle curve of beach and picnic tables right ashore. You can anchor off in settled conditions and take the dinghy in for a walk along the track over to Tucks Bay or beyond. Long Bay Motor Camp sits just behind the beach, so although in summer it can get busy, in out of peak season it’s usually quiet. You will adeptly be able to walk, swim, or just to stretch the legs during the day.
This western coast may not get the same press as the more rugged east, but it’s arguably more usable year-round. Better shelter, gentler landings, and less swell means you’re not working around the weather as much — a big bonus if you’re planning a cruise that includes downtime and flexibility.
Marlborough Sounds: Duncan Bay, Guards Bay, and Ngawhakawhiti
Autumn in the Marlborough Sounds brings calm waters, crisp mornings, and quiet bays free of summer traffic. Duncan Bay, Guards Bay, and Ngawhakawhiti offer sheltered anchorages, scenic bush surrounds, and a sense of deep stillness. It’s an ideal time to explore the Sounds’ quieter corners, far from the usual cruising routes.
There’s a unique rhythm to autumn in the Sounds. The pace drops, nights are cool, but the boating is as rewarding as ever. Duncan Bay is a favourite for spotting birdlife or gathering pipi at low tide.
Guards Bay stays quiet year-round, and Ngawhakawhiti is the sort of anchorage you stumble across and never forget.
Fiordland: Te Houhou/George Sound and Hinenui/Nancy Sound
Fiordland in late autumn and winter is raw and remote — a place for seasoned cruisers seeking true isolation. Te Houhou (George Sound) and Hinenui (Nancy Sound) deliver dramatic landscapes, roaring waterfalls, and calm, glassy waters. If you’re prepared, this is New Zealand cruising at its most powerful, untouched, and unforgettable.
You’ll need extra fuel, solid heating, and a boat set up for wet, cold conditions. Visibility can be poor, and reprovisioning isn’t an option. But if your vessel’s up to the task, this is some of the most remarkable cruising New Zealand has to offer.
Final thoughts
Autumn cruising isn’t a last hurrah. It’s something else entirely. It’s slower. More deliberate. The destinations become the focus. Meals stretch longer. You tune in more — to the boat, the weather, the rhythm of the sea.
And maybe, in those quiet moments at anchor, you’ll realise that this — the stillness, the solitude — was what you were chasing all along.
