I awoke early after my rest day. It was before 6:00am and I was ready to launch at 7:40am, my earliest for a while and I found it very satisfying. The inspirational couple that I’d met on the dunes the previous evening were true to their word and arrived to see me off. I was aiming for a campground at Ohiwa. I had contacted the proprietors the prior day to confirm that I would be welcome and for some clues as to how to locate the site from the water. I was learning! My calculations suggested about 35km which I hoped would feel like a sprint after my haul two days earlier.
Whilst he water surface was smooth and glassy there was a still some surf running. I hoped that I would not embarrass myself. They, and especially he, had been so positive about my trip, although I suspect this was simply a part of his wonderful nature. I felt obliged to impress so it was with some relief that my departure through the surf went smoothly.
The view of a wave from behind the break and a glimpse of the terrain that would dominate this trip.
Once out beyond the break I went through all my gear to ensure that everything was in order. This included such things as drink tube accessible, GPS reset and accessible, spray-skirt watertight, the camera safety line secured, hat, glasses and bandana all in place …. It always found it frustrating when moments into the paddle I had to stop to make an adjustment. I am learning with each outing and the disruptions are becoming less frequent now.
I confirmed to myself that the shoulder was no longer an issue but was concerned that I did not feel as strong as I’d like. It was not stiffness, but simply a feeling of nothing much to give. My buttocks too began to feel the pain through their pressure points from an early stage, and after about 3 hours I placed a large sponge on the seat. I received immediate relief. I gave thought as to how I might provide ongoing relief ad remembered seeing gel seats that might work. I even wondered if bike shorts with their padding would work, but decided that a bike seat and my kayak seat were not similar enough and that the padding was therefore inappropriately placed. I would come up with something.
Something different from the long beach and an opportunity for a stretch.
I pulled over into a rocky cove with lots of exposed rock at 11:30am for a stretch, a couple of pieces of fruit, and my special mix of nuts and dried fruit with a couple of pieces of chocolate. It was a good to beach in calm waters, absent of any surf. This spot was also the first and only break from a fairly monotonous stretch of coastline dominated by a long beach backed by low grass covered dunes. A family of cormorants or shags, I know not which, seemed unfazed by my appearance right until the last moment. After they had taken flight the cove was mine.
I would have been happy to share.
The break only lasted ½ an hour. With the promise of an early finish due to my early start I was eager to bring to an end the day’s labours. I had already decided that the single day’s rest after my 60km effort had not been enough and that I would make amends with my next stop. My spirits were definitely down. I was on my own for the first time with Gonzo’s absence and needed to refresh my mind, body and spirit. I now felt decidedly silly talking to myself when no one was sitting behind me to accept my banter.
I did not stay long.
The afternoon sea breeze was again picking up and with the memories of the seas from Monday still fresh in my mind I picked up the pace. I scanned the long beach looking for the telltale sign of a break in its monotony indicating the river mouth and the opposite bank near which the campground was supposedly located.
One soon appeared. I just hoped it was the right one because my GPS had not unexpectedly exhausted its battery supply. The advice given to me over the phone was to land on the beach rather than inside the river mouth because at low tide the waters were not navigable. I was given cause for concern however by a surf that was breaking a kilometre out, encouraged in this regard by the river depositing its load well out to sea. I veered out hoping to skirt the breaking waves but realised that this was pointless as I had to adjust for incoming walls of water. Getting the kayak to bear directly into the oncoming surf was not a given due to the broaching tendency of the kayak - it wanted to turn side-on - and its turning circle. At 5.8m the kayak does not turn on a dime. It was designed to run best in straight lines.
One soon appeared. I just hoped it was the right one because my GPS had not unexpectedly exhausted its battery supply. The advice given to me over the phone was to land on the beach rather than inside the river mouth because at low tide the waters were not navigable. I was given cause for concern however by a surf that was breaking a kilometre out, encouraged in this regard by the river depositing its load well out to sea. I veered out hoping to skirt the breaking waves but realised that this was pointless as I had to adjust for incoming walls of water. Getting the kayak to bear directly into the oncoming surf was not a given due to the broaching tendency of the kayak - it wanted to turn side-on - and its turning circle. At 5.8m the kayak does not turn on a dime. It was designed to run best in straight lines.
I spied deeper water closer to shore and chose to surf in and then paddle across the mouth in what looked like deeper and stiller waters further in. I caught a coupe of excellent swells and realised that my decision had been the correct one. I would add however that surfing waves in still causes my heart to leap to my mouth and expect that it will be some time before I feel confident with this aspect of my trip. I paddled across to the opposite side of the river’s entrance. There I left the kayak sharing the bank with a number of fishermen who pointed me towards the campsite.
I realised very quickly that a beach landing would have placed me far closer to my final destination. The 39km covered that day would have been over 40km had I not beached in the manner I'd chosen. It was a significant walk. At least with the time being 1:45pm I would not be pressed to race a setting sun. I was greeted at the office by the extremely pleasant woman with whom I’d spoken to the day before. This impression was immediately reinforced when she suggested I find the groundskeeper - also a top notch bloke - who was only to happy to drive a large buggy and trailer down to the water’s edge to collect the loaded kayak. In one trip all my belongings were deposited directly to my campsite! I immediately envied those who made trips like mine with the support of a ground crew.
I was provided with a site close the dunes with shade-supplying trees. My neighbours immediately brought me fresh pippies and showed me how to open them with a knife to be eaten natural. Their freshness and salty flavour was wonderful. I readily accepted first one plate, and then another and devoured them with relish. It was very satisfying to finally make use of the ridiculously heavy Leatherman tool I’d purchased for the trip. This was real camping I thought to myself. I was also chuffed to only cut myself once during the tricky exercise that I repeated by my estimate somewhere close to 50 times over.
My other neighbours were wonderful too. Two couples travelling in their converted 7m vans turned out to be not only experienced campers with a great sense of humour and cheekiness to match, but in one case a sailor who’d won line honours in the famous and testing Sydney to Hobart yacht race in the 60’s on a wooden boat called Buccaneer. Anyone who knows the race will be impressed by this.
I fell asleep after a hot shower surrounded by my friendly and generous neighbours. With the knowledge that I would take two full days off from paddling, my spirits were already on the mend.
