Winds to Wairoa

I was eager to move on and was ready, already having placed some of my belongings in the rear of the ute, when my host Gerry appeared as promised, even if somewhat bleary-eyed. I think he had to wake the neighbours to borrow the same trailer that we’d used yesterday afternoon, so I am in debt.

The short ride down the hill and onto the beach revealed a breeze that would be working against me and I held some concerns that it might put paid to my desire to be moving on. I knew that a campground at Mahia Beach lay very close by in the next cove and told myself this as I finalised my preparations. My hope had been to make it to Wairoa, a fair sized town that was located on the banks of the Wairoa River some 40km into the wind that now worried me.

Gerry had left immediately however Ian and then Susie, who I’d met the previous evening, had kindly come down to send me off. I think Ian was astounded by the amount of gear and time it took to get ready! Finally though with a time of 8:35am, with a wave and wishes of good luck, I pointed straight into the chop.

For the first hour my compass suggested that I was fighting a south-westerly wind head-on. I estimated gusts of up to 20 knots. The thought of doing an about-face crossed my mind more than once as I battled on. It was slow progress into the chop and I had to force myself not to watch the shoreline because it slid by so slowly and I was afraid that it would depress me and see that encounter lost.

I also told myself that any gain today, however small, would be an advantage tomorrow. Just because I was going slowly I told myself didn’t mean that I shouldn’t put in a few hours. The problem was that the energy spent trying to make headway was taxing. This was a slugfest.
Just after an hour I received some respite as it backed off. I was in the midst of congratulating myself for having stuck it out when it rose again. I cursed both inwardly and outwardly but was determined to keep going.

I was running close to and parallel with a long black sandy beach that rose sharply from the water meaning that the swell and chop broke directly and heavily onto it. Though the waves were small I could still sense the undertow surging up beneath me.

A similar coastline for 40kms! Note the driftwood. Whole trees!

I stayed within twenty metres seeking any protection that the coast could offer. The problem was that it was blowing off the exposed sea. I wondered about the coastguard’s report that I’d heard earlier that morning with the VHF radio mentioning north-westerly winds wherein the coast might have offered the protection I was now seeking.

Just before midday I sensed a change in the wind when I caught an inoffensive whiff of cow dung! The sweet smell was backed up by a warmer gust on my right cheek clearly indicating that the wind had at last swung around to the north-west. Anything with some west meant that I was essentially still fighting it, but coming off the land as it now was, it had less opportunity to agitate the seas. The water quickly became smoother and paddling easier, even if the wind’s strength remained about the same.

Nearly one hour later (I noted 12:45pm), there was yet another change, and this was a swing to the south, meaning it was buffeting me side-on coming from the open bay. More chop. Ggrrrr. What next, I wondered? The answer soon came to me in that it began to gust more and more from the south-east. Anything with east in it meant that it was from behind me. I was thankful but by now not prepared to bank on it lasting for long.

I was however, now beginning to congratulate myself for having stuck it out. I had covered some distance, although without my GPS it was difficult to gauge just how far I’d come with great accuracy. The beach beside me was unending and being miserly when it came to offering me landmarks of any sort to measure my progress. Every time I thought I could see an end to it in the distance I was disappointed on arriving there to be met by more of the same. I knew that I could beach if needed, but preferred not to for the sake of a stretch fearing a dunking in the small but robust shore-break. There was nought to do but push on looking also for a sign of the break that would indicate the river mouth that would mark the Wairoa.

At 2:00pm I got a break of a different sort when the wind, dropped away to almost nothing! It was time to celebrate and for the first time in over a month I took out my Ipod in its waterproof wrap, and sang aloud to some of my favourite tunes. One which is on there, but did not come up was, dare I announce it, is Demis Roussos’, My Friend the Wind. How appropriate (inappropriate?) that would have been! And yes, I do have exotic tastes.

The music gave me the lift I needed over those final hours and at 3:50pm I sighted what I prayed was my goal. Studying the maps had made me aware of a large lagoon prior to the river and hoped that I had in fact left it behind. Certainly the very strong flow of water suggested to me a river. It was surging out of a relatively narrow gap in the black sand and I had to appraise the situation carefully before making my move.

I chose to hug the beach from the side I’d approached right until the last moment and then turn into the mouth hugging the near bank. It offered the best chance of making it inside I thought. I was doing well and had with as strong a strokes as I could muster, got through what I thought was the worst of it, but just as I got onto the smooth water* I watched as the old pylons beside me indicated that my progress had come to a halt. I was not moving despite giving it everything I had!

* In hindsight the smooth water indicated deeper water and therefore more water?

For a moment I was worried that I would be sucked out into the worst of it and was unsure of how this would affect me and the kayak so I was relieved when without much trouble I managed to glide the kayak onto the shore immediately beside me. It was now a small matter to pull the floating kayak the ten or so metres necessary to get inside the spit that was funnelling the outflow so fiercely.

For a moment I was worried I'd be sucked back out not knowing what the strong flow might do to me.

The interior looked worryingly like a lagoon so big was the expanse of water... and there was no trace of a town of any size to be seen yet alone a decent sized one! Could this still be the lagoon some distance short of my goal? I decided to pull out my cell phone and phone the campground I had hoped to magically appear inside the opening I had just navigated.

The interior here, looked like a lagoon.

With some discussion we decided that I had in fact arrived at the Wairoa River. I just needed to paddle up the river and under the bridge. OK. With the assistance of my binoculars I worked out where the only place the river could be flowing from. It had to be ‘inland’ from me or thereabouts. It was still not obvious but I paddled towards it and soon the river began to look like a river should. Relatively narrow and with roughly parallel banks. In offering this the river here was at least 50 metres wide.

Beautiful and relaxing.

It was pretty and the water was smooth and free of any wind. I enjoyed paddling this immensely despite the current and wondered why I hadn’t chosen a river to paddle along instead of the open seas for my adventure. I knew that by sticking close to the tree-lined banks and on the inside bends that I could avoid the stronger flows. I began to see signs of housing through the trees and knew that it could not be far now. Still, it took me an hour (I estimated 5km), before I’d paddled under the bridge and onto a sandy landing beside the Riverside Motor Camp at 4:55pm.

Made it. You little beauty!

I soon had my tent pitched and derived a sense of satisfaction from the fact that I’d paddled for nearly 8½ hours without a break (apart from the hourly 2-3 minute food and fluid intakes), and covered 45kms when I so nearly turned back. The winds had tried everything but I’d stuck to my task. If they’d stuck to theirs i.e. their original direction and strength it would have been a different story, I’m sure, but I didn’t let them know that.