The girl was due today. She was the pregnant partner of the guy who on the previous afternoon had got himself into a bind by offering to help me get my kayak to the camping ground. I wanted to say thankyou. We had lifted, dragged and pushed the fully laden kayak for approximately 400m up the beach and along what was at best a creek. I don’t usually use names but in this case it seems apt. His was Porter! At times, mercifully, it was as deep as my waist and we floated it. At other points we had no choice but to haul it. It was I, who on three or four occasions, had to seek mercy and rest it down to allow me to swap hands.
The campground store did not offer much in the way of a thank you gift so I opted for a tin of pears and a packet of Tim Tams. I’ve been led to believe that a pregnant woman’s tastes can fluctuate wildly. I also thought from a culinary perspective that the combination of chocolate and pear, worked? The shop did have a card on which I was able to express my thanks, whilst wishing them the very best for the New Year including of course mention of the pending addition to the family. This was delivered to their tent site.
When I later caught up with them I was kindly asked if I would like to go fishing from the old wharf I’d spied yesterday back at Hicks Bay towards the conclusion of my day’s grind. It was Christmas Day and it was a pearler. Sunny and warm with the water doing its best to imitate the Mediterranean though in truth its colour is less azure, and leans more towards more jade or emerald, but brilliant nevertheless.
Emerald green waters and a blue sky.
We drove to the magnificent structure and spent some hours there with limited success but enough action to keep us attentive. Any lack of success was not due to the number of fish we pulled in but rather their inadequate size. I would estimate that I alone pulled in close to a dozen fish, returning all but two.
A great spot to fish.
The expectant mother had the most success when winding in her partner’s rod as we prepared to leave. A small kahawai, hooked straight through the eye! You can just hear Mother Kahawai blowing bubbles to her poor infant, “I told you to watch where you’re going!” In the ensuing struggle a hat had been lost to the waters below so I decided to battle my phobia (heights), and jumped off the wharf to retrieve it, wanting a swim as it was.
We threw most of them back.
After the fishing we would later take a look at “the world’s largest pohutakawa tree”, which by some reports is more than 600 years old. I read somewhere else that it was more than 300 years old.
We would say our goodbyes the following day but not before swapping horror stories about waking up on public transport having missed our stops. I thought that I could not be outdone, when recounting how I once woke up on a Sydney Harbour Ferry some six hours after boarding, however Porter’s story about waking up in Scotland after boarding a train in England, outshone all!
I was not able to get the cricket but for some highlights, so I spent my time putting to memory from my maps, the upcoming bays and their offerings. I would need to paddle at least 60km, a distance travelled only once before, if I were to make my next port of call. It would also require favourable conditions because the coastline in these parts is not forgiving when it comes to inviting a landing. The weather forecast which I checked and rechecked for its updates, seemed to indicate that the southerly winds working their way up the coast were still two days away. I hoped that on this occasion the weatherman would be right as anything in the form of a headwind could turn my outing into a frightening failure.
MERRY XMAS TO ALL!
WISHING EVERYONE A HAPPY AND SAFE 2010
THE GONZ
