Day 104, Mar 11 2010
I was sitting in the campground’s communal kitchen at 5:30am. The sun was yet to rise and I had the place to myself and was taking the opportunity to download the camera, and charge my various pieces of equipment.
The radio was on and the forecast was for the south-westerly to continue at 20 knots with cloud and rain, and for it to increase to 30 knots the following day with heavy rain, and the temperature to drop to 7° C overnight. Ouch!!!
I wanted to push on and take advantage of the favourable winds while they lasted and had two options to consider. Ahead of me were two campgrounds that I calculated to be about 45kms away. They were only kilometres apart.
I looked up my notes in preparation for the day and noted that one, the Onaero Bay Holiday Park had four cabins. My mind was made up to move on but I’d ring this one just in case a cabin was available, however remote my chances. The weekend was approaching and New Plymouth was hosting WOMAD, a large music festival attracting thousands of visitors. If a cabin was not available I’d aim for the other, slightly more distant campground.
A cloudy morning in start contrast to yesterday evening.
Despite the presence of foreboding clouds there was no rain and I was able to pack up in dry conditions even if it did take a while for the dew on my tent to dry off. I made a telephone call to Onaero Bay moments before I was ready to depart. After initially receiving the impression that I was out of luck (not unexpected), I was ecstatic when Jan informed me that there was in fact a cabin available. Was I happy? MOST CERTAINLY!
Dark clouds in the sky as I make my way towards New Plymouth.
Although I’d risen early it was approaching 10:00am when I commenced under dark clouds and the threat of rain. The wind although south-east, was no more than 10 knots but it was for the time-being blowing across my beam and I was conscious of the problem that this might pose if it strengthened to the forecast 20 knots. The sea was lumpy. Mt Taranaki was obscured by a thick blanket of cloud. A brief glare of early morning light there was informed me that I was now beginning to head east.
Liquid silver. I was beginning to head east.
My first goal however was to reach New Plymouth, clearly identifiable and approximately 10km distant. I’d covered this distance in just under an hour-and-a-half, paddling on the far side of the middle of two rocky outcrops. A large and readily identifiable chimney stack marked the beginning of the port of New Plymouth and thereafter I observed in the distance the homes and office district spread out along the coastline.
Chimney stack marking the beginning of New Plymouth. The sea was lumpy.
My plan was to point out to sea, away from this part of the coastline because of my concern about the wind picking up to the forecast 20 knots. If I stuck to the coast and it strengthened, I would have to battle the elements hitting me broadside. By pointing high whilst the conditions allowed it, I hoped to be in a position to turn downwind when or if the conditions deteriorated.
New Plymouth The large and readily identifiable chimney stack.
Two-and-a half hours into the paddle and my angle had taken me approximately four kilometres offshore. The coast was barely visible through the rain and mist hugging the coastline so I checked the kayak’s compass in case it vanished altogether.
It was at this juncture I made a turn of nearly ninety degrees and it put me on a bearing that would send me in almost a straight line of 23km to my goal. Importantly I now had the weather squarely behind me. I’d have welcomed a strengthening of the wind at that point.
Getting close.
Despite, or because of, the lumpy conditions I was unable to gain any benefit from the seas. This changed however as I neared the coast. The sky brightened and the wind picked up in its intensity. The randomness of the lumps abated as the seas lined up allowing me to take advantage of their energy.
Approaching some cliffs towards the conclusion of the day's paddle.
With the clouds now having vanished I spotted a number of homes above a break in the cliffs believing I’d reached my destination. The so-called estuary appeared to be little more than a dry creek bed and I wondered at the description it was given in the brochures. My suspicion intensified when I walked up the beach still unable to sight the campground with my inviting cabin. It was then that I switched on my GPS and established that I’d stopped 1.2km short of my goal!
A premature stop! An 'estuary', it was not.
This meant flooding and getting a drenching as I pushed out through the surf, and then some minutes to ‘mop’ the resultant water from the cockpit before I was able to spot the correct landing. I paddled between two impressive rocky outcrops (for the heck of it), before landing on the beach and pushing up the estuary which was anything but a dry creek bed.
Threading the eye of the needle... for the heck of it.
The ‘needle’.
I was standing waist deep in the river mouth taking photos, with my kayak having drifted off some distance away, when Ken waved to me from the shore. I must have looked a sight. I’d estimated my time of arrival at being between 3:00pm and 4:00pm when I spoke to Jan earlier in the morning. It was now 3:40pm and Jan had sent Ken down to the beach to see if he could see me.
The estuary wall and time to paddle.
A time to walk.
After admiring the smooth rock face that channelled the river to the sea I followed Ken’s directions and with some walking and some paddling, it was not a difficult task to make my way a hundred or so metres up the waterway to where I spotted Jan and Lola high on a bridge with Ken standing on the river bank beside a small jetty.
My much appreciated greeting party.
It was a wonderful greeting for me, in part because of the uniqueness of the river that provided me with access, but also due to the help these people proceeded to provide. In moments they’d emptied my kayak of all its load and had it sitting in a trailer behind a small tractor. Ken then helped me carry the now very light kayak to a safe and secure location and by the time I’d walked up to my waiting cabin all my belongings were being neatly placed on the small landing at the front door!
Trailer service.
I had a hot shower revelling in the thought of the unexpected fresh linen on the comfortable bed in my cabin. It had a level of luxury that I had certainly not expected for the price. A copy of the day’s newspaper with some coffee and milk took it to another level again. The price was a bargain.
The temperature could drop below zero for all that I cared.
43.6km was achieved in 6 hours.
