I was approaching the southern-most tip of the North Island and with it, Wellington was now within reach. I had also been informed that I should be aiming for Mana or Plimmerton as a launching pad for the Cook Strait crossing. To reach these I would have to pass the entrance to Wellington Harbour, and begin a northerly heading up the west coast. Two hundred kilometres was the approximation.
Over the previous couple of days, after discussing the coastline and looking at my maps with the local store owner, I’d planned my route and the stops I could make on the way. In addition, two important points became apparent to me. Firstly, unlike my initial impression - one that had first been initially cultivated by the New Zealand Coastguard’s national rescue coordinator - the Wairarapa coast offered numerous beaching opportunities, weather permitting. I’m not suggesting that the information shared with me was incorrect, only that I interpreted it wrongly. I’d envisaged steep cliffs reaching down into the sea but in fact the steep slopes generally levelled out immediately prior to the coastline.
The second thing that became evident was that apart from Riversdale just 25km south to my south, there would be no opportunities to shop for food supplies or stock up on the all important water until Lake Ferry, the final stop before Wellington. I have been making use of a small rucksack to carry my food supplies and will carry in it about five freeze-dried meals, three or four packets of 2 minute noodles, and about half-a-dozen muesli or protein bars depending on what had been available at the last shop. I also had a tin of sliced peaches stored away. Enough food for a week without having to curtail my habits which have seen me quite comfortably dine on a single meal at the conclusion of a day’s endeavours, whilst acknowledging that I will more than make up for it when a takeaway food store is handy.
In terms of water, I have a bladder that inserts into a sleeve on the back of my personal flotation device (PFD). It has a tube running from it that I can draw from as required. It holds up to 2.5 litres and I usually add to it a powdered supplement that is marketed in a manner that suggests it will assist with refuelling and recovery during and after endurance events.
I also carry with me three heavy duty water bladders, one each of 3.0 5.0, and 10.0 litres. I have not yet utilised the largest but on this leg would fill the two smaller ones, a first. They add considerably to the weight I’m carrying although this fact is not a determining factor when it comes to my planning. The 2.5 litres on my back can be made to last three days whilst I also require a small amount of water to cook my meals if I’m camping remotely.
In addition I have my favourite 2.5kg container into which I add at each opportunity a predominance of peanuts, sultanas, and dates along with a smaller assortment of other mixed nuts and dried fruit, and in addition a small amount of sugar in the form of fudge, toffees and even ‘milk bottles‘ mixed in. These treats are savoured when a mouthful turns one up. From this mix I will gratefully take a couple of mouthfuls on the hour for the duration of a paddling leg.
I had noted eleven possible stops on route to Plimmerton. Four of these were marked as likely even if optimistic whilst the remaining seven were contingencies. I’d had time to plan it well and was looking forward to getting this stretch behind me, still mindful that the Coastguard had flagged the Wairarapa as a tough stretch.
I arose at 6:00am and was away at 8:10am, delayed only slightly by some campers and beachcombers who I was only to happy to talk with. I made for Castle Point with the lighthouse perched above and was immediately greeted by a pod of dolphins hurrying in the opposite direction. They were oblivious of my approach until the last movement and I believe that I actually gave one or two a fright as they veered powerfully with dramatic effect.
Raining and approaching Castle Point.
Beneath the cliffs I waved to the same friends I’d been talking with moments earlier in the campground as they sent down words of encouragement. The surface was glassy although still lumpy with the after effects of the winds and storms of the previous few days. It was also grey although when the rain increased it flattened the water’s surface.
The rain flattened the water’s surface.
By midday I’d covered 25km and was sitting about a kilometre off Riversdale Beach. Despite this I was still clearly able to identify a surf club on its shores by the red and yellow flags on the beach, the inflatable rescue dinghy on the sand and what appeared to be a surf rowing boat and a number of people standing around it. Could they see me, I wondered? The rains had backed off and it was getting lighter.
The paddle hereon offered little. The conditions remained grey, but mostly dry. Typically, I was some distance from the shores as I targeted distant jutting land features to shorten the distances. At 3:00pm I reached Flat Point, my target for the day. A rocky reef jutted out from the point which was as its name suggested ‘flat’. It was not much more than a sandy peninsula.
I paddled out and around the line of rocks and small surf marking it whilst observing a large fishing trawler making its way down the opposite side towards the shore where a tractor and large trailer awaited it. It did not look overly inviting a place to camp. There were only a couple of homes visible and some extremely large sheds. Being only 3:00pm and still damp, I pushed on towards the large beach that followed. I was getting tired but knew that every extra stroke now was a bonus having passed my goal for the day.
The paddle hereon offered little. The conditions remained grey, but mostly dry. Typically, I was some distance from the shores as I targeted distant jutting land features to shorten the distances. At 3:00pm I reached Flat Point, my target for the day. A rocky reef jutted out from the point which was as its name suggested ‘flat’. It was not much more than a sandy peninsula.
I paddled out and around the line of rocks and small surf marking it whilst observing a large fishing trawler making its way down the opposite side towards the shore where a tractor and large trailer awaited it. It did not look overly inviting a place to camp. There were only a couple of homes visible and some extremely large sheds. Being only 3:00pm and still damp, I pushed on towards the large beach that followed. I was getting tired but knew that every extra stroke now was a bonus having passed my goal for the day.
I dragged the laden kayak up into the grasses saving me work and time.
Half an hour later I decided that now was as good a time as any. There were farm houses scattered along the coastline but right here was as distant from any. In these situations I prefer to stay hidden in case my pitching a tent might for some reason offend. On this occasion I actually dragged the kayak, still loaded up into the grasses on this occasion. The beach was neither steep nor deep and I had my newly reinforced keel.
One hour later I was inside my tent.
One hour later I was inside my tent. The timing was impeccable because the sky again darkened and with it came the rain. I chose to eat simply, opening the can of peaches, having a muesli bar, and cooking up some rice.
The sky darkened.
I did not stay up long, just time enough to make some notes and read a few pages of Wilbur.
Note: On six occasions during the paddle I had to take a toilet break. A result of the layoff at Castlepoint and drinking tea I wonder? I can normally get through the day without the need.
