The kayak was on the roof and taken to the boat ramp on the river just before 7:00am, but not before devouring porridge with yoghurt, peaches and banana. Superb it was! I hoped to paddle to the far tip of the Mahia Peninsula today and then use this as a launching point to head directly across Hawke Bay to Napier.
Whilst standing on the boat ramp, still packing the kayak I was treated to a special sight. A paddler, returning from his early morning exercise was literally pushed up onto the ramp by Moko, the world famous dolphin of Gisborne. Moko is a solitary bottlenose dolphin who has shunned living wit his pod and cavorts with swimmers and surfers on the beach and in the river. After ‘escorting’ the outrigger canoe in he made a straight line across the wide river to play with a car tyre (probably lost by a boat using it as a fender), that was floating in on the incoming tide. There was no way he could see it. Apart from the distance, thirty to forty meteres, the water is not clear, so I can only presume that he picked it up on his sonar.
The six women crew of an outrigger then came down to wish me luck and give me a round of applause and cheer. I hollered back to them that the man beside them, Porter, was as of two days ago the proud father of a baby boy and initiated another round of applause and cheers. He was probably embarrassed but certainly deserving of the plaudits. He and his partner had been wonderful and generous hosts and I hope that I will see them again and have the opportunity to repay them in kind.
The short paddle to the river mouth was uneventful and I was relieved to note that the surf I’d witnessed and experienced upon arriving was non-existent. I headed out of Poverty Bay and made a straight line for the Mahia Peninsula far off in the distance. I was aiming to cover just over 60km and it meant that once again I’d be at times over six kilometres from shore with not much to focus on but the completion of the leg.
I witnessed two pods of dolphins arching through the water towards me however they were not interested in me and disappeared as they got closer. I also paddled through two large schools of kahawai on the hunt as it was explained to me. The interesting thing is that these salmon-like fish allow me to get right up on top of them before dispersing providing me with a dose of excitement.
I also noticed a higher than normal number of the small brown marine birds of which I am yet to identify. They seemed to take a genuine interest in me and the kayak and swooped within metres of my bow. I have noticed too that they appear to sometimes float on the water’s surface in the immediate residency of a jelly fish. I will have to investigate this creature further to confirm my observations and if confirmed, the reason behind this peculiarity.
I’d had a gentle breeze behind me as I began the trip but this soon swung around without the channelling effect of the bay and it was soon across my port beam. It strengthened and without the protection of any land masses the seas soon became rough. Hitting side-on as it were it was without rhythm and demanded increased concentration whilst dealing with the constant up and down, and therefore inefficient motion of the kayak. I once teetered on the edge of capsizing for what seemed like an age before, with some relief, we decided to stay right way up.
I could see the next tip of the peninsula only kilometres ahead, which if rounded, would have seen the wind and seas firmly behind me thereby allowing me to continue for another ten or twenty kilometres. As it was, the conditions demanded that I turn into shore and seek shelter.
The winds are obvious, and the point I wished to round, tantalisingly just out of reach.
I headed directly for shore noting an area with some protection from the breaking chop and made directly for it. I noted also three or four tents in a paddock so my line was confirmed. The land was otherwise void of habitation apart from a couple of farm houses.
Landing just after 1:30pm, I made my way to the tents and greeted a woman there asking if she was on private land or whether it was ‘freedom camping’. They were a family camping on a relative’s land. I explained my position and asked what the locals might think of me camping beside the road that separated the paddock and the shoreline. They might not like it I was informed, but there was nought else for me to do.
I had no choice!
I returned to my kayak and just as I was to begin unpacking my belongings the woman approached and offered to help me carry the kayak up beyond the tide line. I thanked her but advised that it was too heavy for her to lift. Her response that she was “pretty strong” was borne out when she took a hold of the toggle at the bow and did indeed get it, with me at the stern, to just below the grassy embankment. She’d saved me half a dozen trips!
We got talking and I learnt that Gina, her family and her sister’s family had been camping there for a couple of weeks. I was interested also to hear that the wind and seas today were the worst they seen in that time. I had soon set up the tent behind a tough and thorny bush for a windbreak and fallen asleep in the warm interior but not for long.
An early stop but impressive nevertheless.
I was woken by one of her sons and a nephew bearing a mug or hot mushroom soup and a couple of sluice of buttered bread. It was greatly appreciated and I thanked the boys profusely before enjoying the hospitality. Crossing the road to the fence, I thanked Gina very much. I was not sure why at the time but she asked me if I was a vegetarian. My response was to explain that after the efforts of a day in the kayak there was very little that I wouldn’t eat.
At the time, I somewhat naively missed the point behind the questioning. I could possibly claim fatigue as an excuse because I very quickly dozed off once again only to be woken by the sound of my name being called out. I sprang up in a bewildered state to see two more boys - I think they were different ones - with Gina in tow bearing a plate of steaming fettuccine with bacon and cream, a bowl with penne and tuna, and three nectarines!
Gina would later point out that you never tell a Maori woman that you’re hungry. I did not think I had until she pointed out that I’d said there “I would eat anything“. I felt genuinely humbled. In fact I am in awe of the extraordinary hospitality that he been extended to me over and over again on this trip. I have certainly lost some weight. About half a stone (4 kilograms) but don’t believe I look malnourished. In fact I don’t think I have looked or felt as fit as I do right now for some decades! I have begun thinking about how I might, at the conclusion of this adventure, recognise in some small way the amazing kindness that has been shown to me so often.
Whilst I was still wondering how I’d become so cynical towards mankind, and naïve when it comes to the kindness of heart that has been so repeatedly demonstrated on this trip, I was brought a steaming cup of tea along encircled by almost more chocolate chip biscuits than I could consume. Upon returning the empty cup and saucer I was handed a bag of fifteen home-grown tangelos! …and my mother had been worried that I wouldn’t be eating enough fruit and vegetables. Ironic too that the bay I’d left for here, had been named Poverty Bay by Captain Cook because he felt that the natives had been less than generous towards his advances for supplies!
Humbled!
Despite the early conclusion to the day’s paddle I had still managed to cover 50 kilometers in just under six hours. I consider any day where my speed averages over 8km/h as excellent going.
