Day 103, Mar 10 2010
I had an early highlight when greeting a fellow camper on the shore who’d just been out in his kayak. Upon asking him how he went, I was cruelly delighted to learn that he’d turned sideways and capsized when coming in on a wave and that he’d lost his paddle float. He had obviously not been prepared for the early morning swim because he was wearing shorts, t-shirt and a poly fleece vest!
I was unsure whether to impart some of my own learned wisdom or to offer him a generous hug, so I simply suggested that this was quite ‘normal‘. It was only out of respect that I did not throw myself onto the sand and pound it in absolute mirth.
I took advantage of a channel running up against the headland to make good my departure.
I’d noticed a channel that ran along the inside of the headland when arriving at low tide the previous afternoon and chose this to make good my departure. A small group of interested spectators watched me leave just before 10:00am.
The forecast was warning of a 20 knot north-westerly to hit “in the evening”. I decided that in my condition and with the late start that Oakura was a risk as it entailed a paddle of over 40km and possibly nearer 50km. Cape Egmont however was easily accessible at just over 20km away.
The area is renowned for its surf and I concluded that this region, probably more than any other I‘d come across, deserved the title of the country’s premier surf region. Numerous rocky reefs offered a hint of their potential even in the prevailing small swell conditions.
The fact that it was a clean sunny morning helped me favour the location but as the morning progressed I took to dipping my cap in the ocean due to the heat and a slight headache. This was nothing however compared to the deep pain in my butt and hamstring.
Searching for a more permanent solution to the simple shifting my weight, I tried placing one, and then two, sponges beneath me in the hope that it would relieve some of the pressure that was building up as a result of the extended periods in the seated position. I repositioned them a number of times searching for the ‘right’ placement. As with my previous efforts the relief was only temporary if for slightly longer periods.
Despairingly, looking for yet another adjustment, I removed them altogether, and was surprised when the feeling of relief seemed deeper, and even more surprised when that relief endured. Did this confirm that the pain I’d been experiencing was a sciatica issue as someone had suggested the previous day, and had I somehow bludgeoned it into submission?
With such a short distance to cover I’d paddled quite hard, but was disappointed when Cape Egmont offered no obvious spot to beach and no obvious camping ground in site. It looked quite desolate in fact. It was only 1:00pm so I paddled for another half-an-hour looking for an alternative.
Mt Taranaki and the lighthouse at Cape Egmont.
At 1:33pm I turned on the VHF radio and listened to an updated weather forecast. The threat of the north-westerlies seemed to have evaporated and at 1:45pm I turned on the GPS and was heartened to note that Oakura was only 24km away.
The coastline did not look appealing here and I calculated that even if it took me another four hours, I’d still be able to reach Oakura at 5:45pm. So telling myself that the satisfaction would make it worthwhile as a way of dispelling some trepidation, I made the decision to push on.
Mt Taranaki looking impressive, but the coastline was not appealing.
Not long after making this decision the south-easterly strengthened to 15-20 knots and I found myself making excellent time. It was interesting in that the swells being generated by the wind were not large. They were in fact very small, however they were constant and formed up in well defined lines one after the other. There wasn’t any of the disorganised chop that can interrupt these lines and the kayak was able to surf them for long extended periods, travelling far quicker than I could paddle and offering me a rest every time we picked up one of these ‘runners’.
Motoring!
The bow is briefly submerged as it catches up to some swell.
At 3:00pm I again looked at the GPS and it was now telling me only 11.4km to go. I was flying! The excellent pace lasted right up until I landed on the beach directly in front of the campground. It was only 4:20pm, nearly an hour-and-half inside my original estimation, and I felt great.
I’d arrived feeling deeply satisfied as the afternoon sun reflected off the water.
I believe that the beaches up to the mean high tide mark in New Zealand appear to be recognised as public roadways.
My tent pitched.
Feeling immensely satisfied, I’d soon identified a quiet corner of the campground to pitch my tent and happily walked the mile necessary to reward myself with two ‘Barrel’ burgers… a combination of meat pattie, schnitzel, bacon, ham, egg… I’d easily have eaten three.
I returned to my tent and wondered what the approaching clouds would deliver.
Approaching clouds.
In less than 6 ½ hours I’d covered 50.77km. An excellent result!
