I woke at 6:00am to a bleary drizzly day. I’d not got to sleep until after 10:30pm due to some late arrivals for a junior surf carnival that was to take place in a couple of days time. Sleep came when went to the bathrooms and acquired some toilet paper to act as ear plugs. Breaking camp in wet conditions was not pleasant. I packed my damp belongings into bags that were in fact designed to keep them dry!
I had some assistance carrying my kayak down to the water’s edge by the very person whose late arrival had kept me awake the previous evening. The help was appreciated. I then made the several trips of about 100m needed to cart my belongings before packing them away. A westerly breeze had me questioning the day’s forecast as I launched the kayak into the water hoping not to come to grief as some 1’-2’ waves broke out the back. A looming set saw me dig deep and find an instant burst of energy (the adrenalin kicked in), and I powered through and then over a couple of waves in a very satisfying manner. Waves are something we will have to get used to and this small experience gave me some confidence.
Checking that Gonzo was still aboard (he currently sits behind the cockpit strapped down by the elastic straps that cover the rear compartment), we began the paddle. I did not feel stiff or tired and was wondering whether it was the lighter load - we’d couriered 5kg of equipment back to Auckland the previous day - the simple fact that we’d had a rest day, the assisting NW breeze and NE swell, the burgers I’d consumed, or even the hot spa yesterday morning that contributed to this. I suspect that it was a combination of all. My only concern was a slight twitch in my left shoulder in a slightly different spot however I am beginning to wonder if this is simply my mind playing tricks on me.
Feeling strong we soon arrived at some more breaking waves that were the result of a river’s outflow and the resultant sand bar that had formed. Assessing the situation we chose to paddle amongst these waves (only a foot), rather than make taking the longer route that might see us avoid the conditions altogether. Keeping an eye out we paddled bow first through the broken waves and surfed any unbroken swells. This saw us come out the other side into smoother, deeper water. We encountered a couple more similar situations but survived without mishap.
A quick stop on the beach that was a part of the sandy spit that would run parallel with us for approximately the next 20km for some food - I’d not had any breakfast - and to offer some relief to the buttocks, and then we were off again.
At 12:20pm we had a serious situation when Gonzo was washed overboard! I am not sure whether I heard him scream or whether it was his head battering the side of the hull that caught my attention but urgent action was required if I was not to lose my First Mate to Davy Jones' locker. It was with hindsight, fortunate indeed that only days before, I had decided that a safety harness was in order despite his mutterings at the time.
Due to his placement behind the cockpit it meant that I could not reach him in the swell and chop, so I brought the kayak around into the weather, seeing him wash towards me as I was blown backwards. It was awkward and tricky but I managed to get a hold of him and with some dexterous movements, released him from the tether that saved his life. It was not possible to return him to his former position and I think he was thankful when I threw his beneath my skirt and between my legs… if you’ll excuse the expression. His only complaint at the time was that half the ocean had flowed up his long (he calls it stately), nose.
By 1:00pm Mt Maunganui and the outflow that marked the entrance to its harbour was well within reach. We beached once more to consider our options. We’d had a freshening NW breeze behind us and a NE swell that meant both a quick (av. speed 8.5km/h) and relatively easy paddle as we surfed the accompanying runners on our way to our destination. As such we’d made good time and there was a thought to carry on, however the stiffening breeze and the coldness that accompanied it put paid to this idea.
Twenty minutes later after some food and liquids and then punching through more waves, we paddled straight over to a fishing boat and asked for some advice regarding a camping site. I was advised to head into the harbour and go hard left. This suggested to me that the site was closer rather than further away and on an incoming tide we soon located the camping ground just inside the southern headland that was in fact Mt Maunganui, or in the native language Mauao, meaning ‘caught by the dawn’.
This day’s paddle had seen me cover some 35km in approximately 4 hours. As the body becomes attuned to the demands being placed on it, and the strength and endurance accordingly increasing, I am hopeful that on a good day, a figure of double this may be achievable. This is some way off however and I will need to manage myself carefully in the short term if I am to attain such a target in the longer term.
At approximately 2:15pm (my arrival time), I had some assistance once more, carrying the kayak across the road that separated a boat ramp from the camping ground. I soon had all my belongings sitting on a grassy patch that I thought would soon see my tent erected. As it was, once I had scouted the large camping area and the reception office, I discovered that the site in fact carried al the way over to the ocean side and a reasonably attractive beach. It was more protected from the westerly influenced winds.
I ‘checked in’, gaining a plot close to the beach and then carried the kayak on my shoulder the 200-300metres along the street’s path. I only hit one car but thankfully as the female occupant sitting in the passenger’s seat pointed out, it was only a hire car!
Then when I was returning back to where I’d previously placed all my belonging, I spied a gentleman that I’d met a few days earlier on Slipper Island. He was a father to one of the school children and had volunteered to help with the group. As a fisherman with a dinghy he appeared quite happy to take various small groups out onto the water in the morning and evening that I was there. I yelled out his name just to be sure and once confirmed, I sought his assistance despite his having just found a car spot. His wife diverted from buying an ice-cream they kindly collected my belongings, put them in the boot of the car, and drove me to my new campsite. “What an opportune meeting!” cried Gonzo.
We slept well after a good feed of a burger and a separate Turkish meal of rice and mixed meats.
I had some assistance carrying my kayak down to the water’s edge by the very person whose late arrival had kept me awake the previous evening. The help was appreciated. I then made the several trips of about 100m needed to cart my belongings before packing them away. A westerly breeze had me questioning the day’s forecast as I launched the kayak into the water hoping not to come to grief as some 1’-2’ waves broke out the back. A looming set saw me dig deep and find an instant burst of energy (the adrenalin kicked in), and I powered through and then over a couple of waves in a very satisfying manner. Waves are something we will have to get used to and this small experience gave me some confidence.
Checking that Gonzo was still aboard (he currently sits behind the cockpit strapped down by the elastic straps that cover the rear compartment), we began the paddle. I did not feel stiff or tired and was wondering whether it was the lighter load - we’d couriered 5kg of equipment back to Auckland the previous day - the simple fact that we’d had a rest day, the assisting NW breeze and NE swell, the burgers I’d consumed, or even the hot spa yesterday morning that contributed to this. I suspect that it was a combination of all. My only concern was a slight twitch in my left shoulder in a slightly different spot however I am beginning to wonder if this is simply my mind playing tricks on me.
Feeling strong we soon arrived at some more breaking waves that were the result of a river’s outflow and the resultant sand bar that had formed. Assessing the situation we chose to paddle amongst these waves (only a foot), rather than make taking the longer route that might see us avoid the conditions altogether. Keeping an eye out we paddled bow first through the broken waves and surfed any unbroken swells. This saw us come out the other side into smoother, deeper water. We encountered a couple more similar situations but survived without mishap.
A quick stop on the beach that was a part of the sandy spit that would run parallel with us for approximately the next 20km for some food - I’d not had any breakfast - and to offer some relief to the buttocks, and then we were off again.
At 12:20pm we had a serious situation when Gonzo was washed overboard! I am not sure whether I heard him scream or whether it was his head battering the side of the hull that caught my attention but urgent action was required if I was not to lose my First Mate to Davy Jones' locker. It was with hindsight, fortunate indeed that only days before, I had decided that a safety harness was in order despite his mutterings at the time.
Due to his placement behind the cockpit it meant that I could not reach him in the swell and chop, so I brought the kayak around into the weather, seeing him wash towards me as I was blown backwards. It was awkward and tricky but I managed to get a hold of him and with some dexterous movements, released him from the tether that saved his life. It was not possible to return him to his former position and I think he was thankful when I threw his beneath my skirt and between my legs… if you’ll excuse the expression. His only complaint at the time was that half the ocean had flowed up his long (he calls it stately), nose.
By 1:00pm Mt Maunganui and the outflow that marked the entrance to its harbour was well within reach. We beached once more to consider our options. We’d had a freshening NW breeze behind us and a NE swell that meant both a quick (av. speed 8.5km/h) and relatively easy paddle as we surfed the accompanying runners on our way to our destination. As such we’d made good time and there was a thought to carry on, however the stiffening breeze and the coldness that accompanied it put paid to this idea.
Twenty minutes later after some food and liquids and then punching through more waves, we paddled straight over to a fishing boat and asked for some advice regarding a camping site. I was advised to head into the harbour and go hard left. This suggested to me that the site was closer rather than further away and on an incoming tide we soon located the camping ground just inside the southern headland that was in fact Mt Maunganui, or in the native language Mauao, meaning ‘caught by the dawn’.
This day’s paddle had seen me cover some 35km in approximately 4 hours. As the body becomes attuned to the demands being placed on it, and the strength and endurance accordingly increasing, I am hopeful that on a good day, a figure of double this may be achievable. This is some way off however and I will need to manage myself carefully in the short term if I am to attain such a target in the longer term.
At approximately 2:15pm (my arrival time), I had some assistance once more, carrying the kayak across the road that separated a boat ramp from the camping ground. I soon had all my belongings sitting on a grassy patch that I thought would soon see my tent erected. As it was, once I had scouted the large camping area and the reception office, I discovered that the site in fact carried al the way over to the ocean side and a reasonably attractive beach. It was more protected from the westerly influenced winds.
I ‘checked in’, gaining a plot close to the beach and then carried the kayak on my shoulder the 200-300metres along the street’s path. I only hit one car but thankfully as the female occupant sitting in the passenger’s seat pointed out, it was only a hire car!
Then when I was returning back to where I’d previously placed all my belonging, I spied a gentleman that I’d met a few days earlier on Slipper Island. He was a father to one of the school children and had volunteered to help with the group. As a fisherman with a dinghy he appeared quite happy to take various small groups out onto the water in the morning and evening that I was there. I yelled out his name just to be sure and once confirmed, I sought his assistance despite his having just found a car spot. His wife diverted from buying an ice-cream they kindly collected my belongings, put them in the boot of the car, and drove me to my new campsite. “What an opportune meeting!” cried Gonzo.
We slept well after a good feed of a burger and a separate Turkish meal of rice and mixed meats.
