Lake Taupo and Jumping out of Perfectly Good Airplanes

I get up at the crack of dawn and there is thick fog blanking the hills around me obscuring the view. I don’t bother with making any coffee or food and fire Homey up and hit the road north. My destination is the great one day trek at the Tongariro crossing. This is supposed to be one the best or at least one of the most popular one day walks in New Zealand. It crosses over a active volcanic area and take about 6- 8 hr one way. I drive hard trying to figure out how I can leave Homey at one end and get myself to the other with enough time to due the walk before dark.

Well as it turns out with most of my traveling it takes far longer than I anticipate to cover the ground and I arrive at the finish point of the walk later in the morning that I had planned. There is nothing there but a Tour bus and a few parked cars. No way to get a ride to the start. I look at the map posted at the start of the track and It shows that I would have to walk the steepest part uphill for many hours before I reach anything interesting. I make the hard choice ( not all that hard really as the guide recommends that you do this track from the other direction) to not do the walk but carry on to Lake Taupo.

Lake Taupo is the largest lake in New Zealand. It is the result of a volcanic eruption and is considered quite young by geological standards. Bit of a punk teenager of lakes. But it is stunning none the less and reminds me a little of Lake Tahoe but maybe a little bigger. There is an island near the south west corner that was used to bury Maori Kings ( I found this out later). It is also one of the cheapest places on the planet to tandem sky dive.

So I decide that I can burn a day jumping out of a perfectly good plane and still have time to paddle out to that island. So as I near town I turn into the airport and find the Great Lake Skydive company or Freefall. For $409 (NZ) I would be strapped to a guy bigger that me (Dan) and then travel to 15000ft and then drop like a stone over the largest lake in the country. Sounds fun! That includes a DVD recording my jump, which was unreadable as it is in PAL not NTSC format.( I didn’t discover this until it was too late to go back.). What a rush!!!! Lucky that I have photographs of the event as well so I will have some record ( I hope that I can get the data reformatted to NTSC later). I swung my legs over the edge of the plane and then leaned out and the lean didn’t seem to end. I fell away from the plane but it didn’t seem like there was a plane anymore. I could see the entire lake and the mountains and the country side and it all seemed so perfect. After what seemed like an eternity I felt Dan open the chute and I could feel the straps biting into my legs as weight returned to my body. It took forever, it was over so quickly. When we landed I forgot to stand up and we tumbled on the ground. I don’t know why I didn’t stand up and run but it didn’t really matter. Afterwards I hung around and waited for the DVD to be finished. I talk to a couple of guys that are here from Australia on a surfing safari. I show them the pictures that I took of mavericks and asked them what they thought about their jump.

After we got to see the DVD I headed into town. I heard that about some Maori carvings that were about 6km from town around a point. I parked at the beach and paddled out to the carvings and was very impressed. The water was clear and pleasant. I had timed my trip as to make the return before dark so after taking photographs I paddled back around the point and headed toward town. But as I approached I noticed that I wasn’t quite sure where the beach was that I launched from. I was far enough away that I really couldn’t see where I parked Homey and so I tried to figure out where I parked the car. I paddled and strained my eyes to try and see the car. I look at the lay of the land to see if any of the landmarks I had picked were visible. But in the end I ended up picking the most likely spot and paddled to it. I figured that I could then turn right and then sweep the beach if I was wrong. But as it turned out I wasn’t too far off and spotted Homey under a tree right where I left him. As I was paddling up I met up with three paddlers just leaving for there Wednesday paddle. They invited me along but as I had just returned and hadn’t eaten a thing all day I declined and rolled into town.

Got some pub grub at this lively little pub . There were two guys that were playing all sorts of music. The started playing a song I know but the singer blew the lyrics. The playing was still good. I move outside to the courtyard and sit by a fire that dispels the gloom and warms my face. I stroll around the downtown area and look into the closed shops. Finally I need to find a place to sleep for the night before I make the last leg to Auckland.

I find a small parking lot on the beach and pull up to a large RV that is playing music and has a small fire burning on the beach. Were I meet three folks from Ireland (to be continued)

Return to the North Island

Well I don’t have much to say about the ferry crossing as I spent the entire time working on my presentation. The crossing was much calmer and was over before I knew it. I hit the road and tried to get as much road under my wheels before breaking for sleep. The wind in Wellington tossed my car all around the motorway. The biggest issue was deciding which way road I would take. It seemed to me that I didn’t want to slow down even to study the map. I have to deal with the Wellington rush hour traffic which after weeks on the South Island seems overwhelming. When you compare it to traffic back home it’s really quite light. I make it as far as a town called Bulls as the sun sets and stop to eat at a Chinese restaurant. Bulls is typical of little New Zealand towns. It reminds me of lots of little towns in the foothills of the gold country Overhangs in front of the shops and the high sidewalks. I can see what people say that New Zealand reminds them of California 60 years ago.

I get back in the van and head north until I just can’t drive anymore. I pull over into a picnic ground next to the highway and under a train trestle. Two Trains numerous Large Trucks!

Marlbrough Sound Elaine Bay

I get in the van and drive to a place called Elaine bay. It’s basically the end of the paved road on the way to French Pass and D’urbal Island. I originally was planning on paddling the east coast of Durbal Island but I wasn’t sure about taking Homey on a long dirt road. In fact I wasn’t sure that the dirt road was the way to French pass in the first place ( Sandy pointed out to me that if I had read the guide it would have confirmed the dirt road part) But in any case I ended up in Elaine Bay where the road ends. Elaine bay is a small community but I saw at least two places that advertised kayaks for hire. So I stopped at the first one and asked the man that answered the door if he could pass along any helpful knowledge about the area, as far as a paddler was concerned. He showed me a map of the sound and pointed out the areas that have camping. He had a double out with a couple currently. He didn’t have any maps to give me but he allowed me you use his computer printer to print out a chart from the electronic ones that Sandy had given me. In return I loaded the chart of the entire Marlbrough sound on to his computer along with a detailed insert of Tennyson Sound that he could print up and give to his clients. He was a really nice guy and asked me a bunch of question about his computer that I was happy to answer.

So I drove down to the dock and setup and launched out. It was about 3pm so I had about 3 to 4 hours of usable daylight to work with. As I started out of Elaine bay the wind picked up and turned the quiet water into chop. I was paddling into a headwind and no matter which direction I turned the wind would change direction and I’d have another headwind to deal with. This was very frustrating! The gusts were enough to almost knock you over if you weren’t paying attention. You could hear them roaring down the mountains that ringed the sound. You could see them coming across the water in that funny rippling of the water surface. After a couple of hours if this I was moving beyond frustrated into down right agitation! I had tried several changed of direction, I tried getting in the wind shadow ( or what I thought would be a wind shadow) of the cliffs. But in the end I just had to live with it. The wind would stop all of a sudden and the water all around would become calm and flat. But this didn’t last for long but I did get to see a couple of Rays basking on the bottom. I tried to take a picture of them but I was too slow with my camera. I then had to find one of these camp sites as the sun kept sinking lower and I was getting cold and hungry! I finally spotted the red and black poles that indicate that there is came site located some where close.

The campsite was a few meters back into the bush. It was set up nicely but without the luxury of a drop toilet. But it did have a nice wood fire place and a stack of wood and kindling sitting right next to it ready to be used. As I was cold and pissed off about the weather I built a fire! The site was surrounded by very exotic plant life and it gave the camp that little something extra. No chance that the ranger was going to show up and ask me for my permit. The trees also did a great job sheltering the campsite from the wind! You could here it howl but this time didn’t seem to come hard into the camp itself. So with my nice fire and wind protection it was a very delightful little site.

It was the night before the full moon and I feared that my beach was going to disappear at high tide so I pulled the boat up off the beach and stuck it into the bush.

The next morning the weather was beautiful I broke camp and paddled out to a very calm and warming morning. By lunch I had landed up on an island and took out my book and setup my easy chair and had just enjoyed the afternoon. I had plenty of time to get back so I just kicked it and relaxed. Around 4pm I packed up and finished my paddle and got back on the road. I got as far as Hastings and made parked up on a Look out point for the night. Tomorrow it would be Picton and the ferry crossing back to the north island.

Abel Tasman Day 3

Sunny day. The park ranger comes around in the morning and tells me that I am not allowed to camp on the beach. I tell him sorry and tell him it will never happen again. He also wants to look at my booking document. I show him the number that I copied down from my online booking but he says that I must have the actual document. I tell him that I couldn’t print it out and he lets me slide. The couple form Switzerland are heading up to Shagg harbor and after I break camp (and move it off the beach) I head north as well. I find Shagg harbor almost by accident. I happen to see a pod of kayaks go into a small opening in the rocks and this turns out to be Shagg harbor. When I turn in I meet my new friends just as they are about to head back. The little harbor is only accessible during high tide and contains a bunch of seal pups. They are very playful and have absolutely no fear of us. I take a bunch of pictures then I start paddling back to the campsite. On my return I find that the tide is complete out so it’s about 200yrds from the edge of the water to the campsite. So I haul all my gear to the boat and get it packed and head back south.

I stop and spend some time on Adele Island on a small beach. It is deserted as most of the tours have completed for the evening but the sun is shining and I take some time to sit and just enjoy the afternoon. I found a small cave that was hidden by trees in the side of the cliffs on the beach. It is not very deep but very tall and filled with ferns. It’s very lovely. After an hour or so I finish the paddle back to the beach and found Homey unmolested. I take my time cleaning and repacking my stuff.

While I’m backing my stuff I talk a bit to two local older guys who are cooking on a camp stove and chat a bit then a bunch of people show up they are a group of young people from all different nationalities. It turns out that they are a bunch of Politic kids having a picnic. The old guys seem make a few disparaging remakes about the Asian ones and I just smile and say nothing. I think that racial prejudice is very much in evidence in this part of the world. This was not the first comment of this kind that I have heard from a local. A Danish gentleman come over and asked if I am going to stay the night as he and his wife plan to but aren’t sure if they will get hassled or not. I tell them that I’m not but only because the car has been parked here for a few days and I thought that I was pushing it.

I not head down the road a bit to Katierine where the large car park is and a large percentage of the kayak companies launch out from. I sneak a load of laundry and a hot shower from the camp site then head back the way I came but instead of returning to the beach I go up a road that takes me to a vacant lot that overlooks the water. I spend the night there and think how nice it would be to have a house on this spot.

Abel Tasman

Went back to Steven's bay to launch out for the overnight trip. I paddled north past the two big Kayaking launch sites Kaiteriteri and Marahau and head up past fisherman’s Island and Adele Island. Just as I hit the halfway point the weather turns and the winds pick up. I can see off in the distance the sea is covered in whitecaps heading this direction. So I land at the nearest beach and put on my spray jacket and helmet and head out. Just in time as the wind has picked up to 20kts and the wind waves are crashing over the bow. Not any thing scary at all. I’ve paddled in much bigger water back home but I was looking forward to a calm warm day after all the wind and rain I’ve been dealing with. I slog on through to my landing site at Mosquito Bay. I pull my boat up on the beach and start to unload the boat. The tide is out and the camping are is about 100 yrds away. When the tide comes back the beach will be only 15 yrds wide! They actually have a kayak parking area as there isn’t room on the beach the tide is up. Just as I start to unpack the rain starts. I decide that if I want to stay partly dry I will not set up In the camp but on the beach up against a wall of a cliff and its overhanging trees. I also start to construct a shelter with my tarp that I can put the tent under and have room enough to cook and get in and out of my tent with out getting water inside. So as I build my little camp site and construct my shelter the rain stops. But I dark grey clouds don’t go away so I stay put. Just then a double kayak pulls up to the beach and a couple jump out. As it turns out they are also camping at the site (there’s was the only other tent at the site when I arrived). I invite them down for a drink after they have stowed there stuff and changed. They come down an hour later with a box of wine. I impress them by having wine glasses although I’m drinking Rum and Cokes. They are from Switzerland and we have a great time on the beach. That night the rain comes and goes but its nothing like what I’ve been subjected to over the last week or so.

On to Abel Tasman

I decide to head straight to Abel Tasman instead of going to Nelson. I stop in the town of Motueka which is the “gateway” town for Abel Tasman. I find an internet place and sit down and read my emails. I discover an email from Mark Hutton asking where I am. I had not gotten back to him telling him that I wasn’t going to make the Bay of Islands trip with him but now it’s too late and he has purchased the food. I send him an email telling him that I will cover his costs when I see him after coastbusters. I also decide that I will have to blow off Matt’s thing if I want to get to Auckland in time. So with those two things out of the way I feel free to go do Abel Tasman on my own. This trip really is about me doing things on my own anyway. I hit a few of the kayaking shops and asked about local information then I went up to Stevens Bay ( as small local’s only spot) and launched out for a evening paddle. I made it as far as fisherman’s Island ( about 5-6 km) and then headed back. I wanted to see how far I could get in an hour paddle. I returned back to Motueka and booked the campsite for the next night and spend the night with a bunch of other mini van travelers parked behind the information center. It seems that we are all in the same kind of vans, all set up the same way, the VW microbus of the new millennia. Actually you see them everywhere. It seems to me that there are more tourist traveling around New Zealand than Locals!

Greymouth to Westport

Next morning the rain has let up. I break camp and hit the water. The sky actually clears and the lake turns to glass. A little reward after last nights woes. But it’s short lived and I just as I make it back to the car and start to repack my gear it starts to rain again. I head on to Greymouth which is the first real town on the Western end of Arthur’s Pass and stop to get a bite to eat and get some seam sealant for my tent. I go to a pizza place just so I can tell Stephanie that I had pizza in New Zealand. Nothing really, it’s round, it’s red on top but the taste is nothing like pizza. Just as I return to my car there is a huge down pour. Hail and buckets of water. The traffic is stopped in the street. I was lucky to just get into my car before it started. I didn’t even try to move until it passed a few minutes later. I decided to get the back tire fixed here so I pull into a Firestone tire place and the it ends up that they have to but a tube in it as the nail was in the sidewall.
I head out again heading to Westport and I stop to pick up a hitchhiker on road just leaving Greymouth. His name is Jeff and he is from Scotland. He is traveling around until his money is gone. He is going to see Pancake Rocks and so am I so we chat about his life and and how New Zealand doesn’t have near as many sheep as he thought they would. Of course he is from the West coast of Scotland where they also have an abundance of Sheep so I guess it’s all relative. When we get to Pancake rock there are hords of tourist. The place is a zoo. We walk along the path looking at the rocks and shoreline. It like Mendocino with its caves and blow holes, but the “pancake rocks” are quite unique. I offer to give Jeff a lift all the way to Westport and he accepts. I drop him off in town and I pick up supplies. I then start heading up north to Nelson and Abel Tasman. I am supposed to meet up with Matt Foy to help with his Politic kids group. I end up spending the night off the side of the road in what appears to be a car graveyard.

Lake Brunner

The rain just keeps coming down in buckets as I come into the flats on the other side of the pass. I take the turn off to Lake Brunnel and the rain starts to let up. In fact there is a spot of blue sky peaking out. When I get to the lake I figure that I can go for a short paddle but when I actually get on the lake it’s so beautiful that I head back and get my camping gear and decide to spend the night. I have to spend it somewhere and not only is it not raining it’s warm out. So I get my thing and head out down the western shore line (as Sandy’s book says that there are no roads to that side. In fact the forest is very dense and exotic! The water is inky black and mirror calm. I can’t believe that only an hour earlier it was Storm’n like Norman! I get to what Sandy’s map says to be Irishman’s landing and set up my tent and gear. . Just then a small flightless bird comes out of the bush right by my feet. It seems surprised to find me there and freezes then when it thinks it safe it make a dash for cover. I make my self a quick snack and then I keep jump back in my boat and continue down the western shore just to see what there is to be seen.

I get as far as Hohonu Spit when the wind starts to pick up and I decide to head back to camp. When I return I pull up the boat and set in on the shore by my tent. Irishman’s landing is set up with fire pits and drop toilets. There are several clearing but no water. There are many streams that empty into the lake each one is dark read as if they were blood. It seems that all the rivers around here are the color of wine. There must be something in the soil that causes this to happen. I must remember to ask some one why. I change out of my wet clothes and hang them up to dry on a tree branch and take a walk along the beach to explore.

After a half hour I start back to camp and it starts to rain again. I hurry back as I don’t want my drying gear to get soaked again but I’m too late. Lucky I set up the tent earlier as it allows me to jump in and get out of the rain, or so I think. I then notice that the my tent hasn’t been in the rain for quite some time and I have found that I have not resealed the seams in a while so the rain is dripping in various places. I am thinking to my self that I won’t be able to sleep if this keeps up so I grab my empty dry bags and stick them between the tent and the fly. After that I stick my rain coat in then my spray jacket. This still isn’t enough coverage. So I finally jump out of my tent and yank out the ground tarp and tie in across the top of the tent. This does the trick. But not every thing is if not down right wet at least damp. I spend the night listing to the staccato of rain all night on the tent roof wondering if the rain will ever stop.

Heading up Arthur's Pass

I hear the wind howl all night long but the trees are good cover so I don’t feel the van rocking. The boat is secured to the top and after a quick breakfast I head up Arthur’s Pass. I thought that the weather to this point was bad. Well I was about to have my definition of bad weather redefined. As soon as I started the climb I noticed that the mountains were disappearing. The wind started to blow me about and then the skys opened up and I was just short of being underwater. I would say it was pouring rain but the rain was more horizontal the vertical. At one point I have to pull of to retie the boat on the van as it has slipped or should I say was blown off the pads. I do this in the pouring rain. Thanks goodness I brought my rain parka! After securing the boat I travel a little further and find a stone shelter along the roadside that was once a stagecoach stop. It has a fire place in it and benches. So I decide to make myself some lunch and enjoy just being out of the van.

Maiden Voyage of The Great White Shark (Lyttleton Harbor and Quarry Island)

Waveney and I take the scenic route to Lyttleton to a small bay just east of the town proper. Jilley and Marie are already there waiting on us. We launch out and start padding to Quarry Island. Quarry Island is in the middle of Lyttleton bay and has some caves and a ships graveyard. It takes about 35 minutes to cross over. The wind is coming in the mouth and the tide is slack the waves hit us abeam and are just enough to wash over the decks. We start to circle the island and land up on the back side where its sheltered from the wind. When I get out the cockpit is sloshing with water. More water than I can justify. I empty the water and then we have a little lunch. Between them the girls have packed enough food for 6 people. The start handing me things to eat and I tell them that’s why I didn’t bring any food as I figured they would have more than enough. We launch out and continue on to the ships grave yards. By this time the tide has changed and started to ebb. The wind is has picked up and is blowing about 15-20 knots in the opposite direction so the wind waves are really standing up now. But their combined affect is to negate each other. But the crossing is exciting and Marie and Jilley are pushing hard to get a cross.

Once across I notice that the boat is still filling with water. I can’t see any holes in the hull so I suspect that the foot peg bolts are leaking. When we get back to Waveney’s house we put it up on a stand and I dump some water in the cockpit and sure enough the water is pouring out of the bolt holes. So I dismantle the peddles and notice that the builder has screwed up the drilling and then tried to make up for it by using strips of wood as a spacer. I run down to the local hardware store and purchase a set of O-rings but then when I go to put them on I realize that I have to get shorter bolts as I have removed the wood strips. I go back to the hardware store and the guy says that he doesn’t have any stainless steel bolts but he calls his supplier in town and he does but I have to run down and pick them up. So I run in to town but it turns out that this place only does wholesale not retail. I explain that the retailer sent me and the saleman there say alright. He goes to ring them up and it’s such a small order that the computer doesn’t have a price set up so in frustration he just tosses me the bolts and tells me not to worry about it. I run Back to S&W’s and put everything together and it I discover that the wood spacers were needed to allow one of the peddles to clear the deck. It just rubs so I just file down the top of the peddle and it all works fine. I do the water test and no leaks.

By now its 5pm and I had planned on leaving town right after my paddle around noon. Sandy had come home from work and tells me that he could have made me neoprene washers at work. Oh well. As they are expecting guest from out of town I climb in the van and start heading for Timaru to see my cousin Sally. I had emailed her but never got a response. I called the number and it was invalid. I decide that I will just cut straight across to Arthur’s pass and paddle at Lake Brunnel.

I make the base of the pass and find a little picnic stop that has a small grove of trees for cover. I back in the van and make a quick dinner and study the map for tomorrow’s attack of Arthur’s Pass.

First Week Gone So quickly

Today will mark my first week in NZ. Today we are going to go paddling with a group of S&W’s friends over on the south side of the Bank’s peninsula. I borrow a boat that belongs to one of S&W’s friends and I follow them out to a place called Tumble down bay. It’s a lovely drive up and over this large hill, down a gravel road, through a sheep farm and finally down to this little bay. The place that we have to park the cars is at least a quarter mile from the beach. But everyone has a little kayak cart that we strap on to the boats then load them with our gear and start dragging them cross country. We have several obstacles to clear including large gully and a set of steps that take you over a fence. The beach is a long smooth black sand beach. The water is at least 75 yards away from the water. The bay is really more of a pocket in the shoreline. The sides are lined with crags and cliffs.

The weather is not bad. The sun is shining and the wind is mild although it will pick up as the day goes on. I guess it’s the nice weather that preceded a storm. The forecast is for another storm coming up from the south to hit later tonight. When we get to the beach a bunch of kayakers are already there and they are all set up for eating. They have sun shelters and food all layed out. Apparently there is a little email network of boaters that regularly meet.

I decide that I need to get in the water so I suit up and head to the water with my boat. Did I happen to mention that it’s a long way away! There is a small break coming up the bay and some people on boogie boards and one guy on a surf board are trying to catch some surf. I take the borrowed boat and make a couple of quick runs. The boogie boarders are impressed but the surfer is not and after a few passes he leaves the water. That leaves me and the Boogie boarders, that don’t seem all that interested in catching waves so much as just bobbing about in the water. I wouldn’t mind so much but they seem to want to do this right in the middle of the nicest part of the wave.

After a few runs I see Sandy launching out with his boat. His is a wooden boat that he designed and built himself and it is very sleek, very light and very low volume. We take turns on the waves and he does quite well. I paddled his boat later in the day and had a hell of a time keeping up right.

After 20 minutes or so the rest of the group starts to launch out and we form up and start heading out toward some rock gardens near the west. The wind has picked up and the water is big. The waves crash over the rocks as we move along the edge of the water. The main group is not accustomed to the rocks and big water but I can’t wait on them so I make a dash through cliffs at the end of the bay and a large stone pinnacle that juts up 6o ft out of the water. The water back here is coming from all direction but there is plenty of room and so there is very little danger. After picking my way though the rocks and swells I turn out of a large slot to the open ocean. The swell is big 8 – 10 ft but once clear of the rocks it’s easily managed. I turn back to rejoin the group in the middle of the mouth of the bay. They have decided to turn back as the swell and wind are both picking up. As I don’t wish to be rude I turn and join my hosts.

We follow the rough shore line back to the beach and I take the opportunity to investigate a few small caves. When I come out one of the paddlers is in the water practicing his paddle float rescue. I watch quietly and get treated to a golden arch at which point I start in with a little coaching (after a prompt from Sandy). The group seem to enjoy it and we all head back to the beach.

The wind has really picked up now and I’m glad that I didn’t take off by myself earlier. As I mentioned earlier I took this opportunity to paddle Sandy’s boat. I am standing next to Waveney as I’m getting ready when all of a sudden I see my paddle come flying through the air right at us followed by Sandy’s boat. Did I mention that it was very light. The boat and paddle are heading straight at Waveney and as she snatches the paddle out of the air I tackle, literally, the boat just before it crashes into Waveney. There I am laying spread eagle on top of the boat, after making a diving tackle in mid air. I’d heard of boats being tossed by the wind in Baja but this was my first experience with one. With the near miss we decide that its time to head back to the cars. Everybody starts packing stuff into the boats and loading on to there little boat caddies. We start the long trek back to the cars. This time I am not having such a bad time of it, which means that my boat only tipped over a couple of times.

When I get back to where the cars are parked I ask out loud if anyone has a boat for sale. What the heck, you never know! Guess what on guy says that the boat on his car is or sale. It is a long sleek Necky Arluk III or at least a copy of an Arluk III. The boat is made of fiberglass and the price is amazingly cheap. I immediately ask what’s wrong with the boat and the guy replies that it was the first boat out of the mould and that the owner / builder was looking to sell it. So we walk it back to the beach, that’s right way back over the beach. I’m not going to buy a boat that I haven’t paddled when the water is right there, relatively speaking. I take it out and it seems to be perfect. Plenty of storage, sleek and reasonability priced. Not really a rock gardening boat but I wanted something to do extend touring and this is the boat for that.

So I said I would take it. But there is one catch I don’t have pads to carry another boat. So the guy get direction from Sandy as to the whereabouts of the house and the guy say that he will meet us there and we can exchange money and the boat. Well as it happens we take too long to get back and when I pull up there is the boat in Sandy’s back yard. The guy just left it there. What trust! The thing with hanging with Sandy, You are just golden!

That night I get invited to go out for another paddle with Waveney and two of her friend Jilley and Marie in Lyttleton harbor. As Waveney wants to be on the water by 9am Sandy and I load the boats on to my Van and get all the stuff prepped. YEAH a Boat At Last!!!!! Next Lyttleton harbor and the great white’s maiden voyage.

Christchurch

Saturday in Christchurch. Weather has been awful. I haven’t found a boat I liked. I am feeling like my time is slipping away. Sandy and Waveney have been wonderful but I am feeling frustrated and a little depressed. But I figure that I shouldn’t get down and that there is a reason for my failure for finding a boat. So I spent the day walking around downtown Christchurch playing tourist. I then hop into the car and take a drive over to Lyttleton harbor which is just on the other side of a small group of mountains southeast of Christchurch. You have to drive through a tunnel to get to it. Lyttleton harbor is just that, a working harbor with a little town climbing up the hillside. I drive up to the top of town and there is a track, which is what they call trails in NZ, that takes you right up to the top of the mountain. As I am feeling antsy I decide to take a little hike up the track and work out my frustrations. I take a snack and my camera and take an hour walk in the bush, as they say here. This does help my mood and I headed back to Sandy’s and Waveney’s feeling much better.

Christchurch

Well I've been in Christchurch for a couple of days now. The weather has been awful. A major storm had hit the NZ. The ferrys that cross Cook Straits have been stopped as the swell has exceeded 30 ft. he last ferry to make the crossing just limped in with banged up passenger, wrecked cars and a few railway cars for good measure.

I have been unable to find a boat and this combined with the weather has been causing me to feel depressed. On the bright side I did get to hook up with Alex (Sandy) Ferguson. He and his partner Waveny are a complete hoot! Sandy is a even more ADD than I am if you can believe that! He is also a master tinkerer, and loves to make all sorts of gagets for his boats. In fact he has built all his own boats. Wooden boat's of a design that may not have originally been his but after all the tweaking and modification he has made his own. He and Waveny have been so kind and opened there home to me. Not that I'm any thing special. They seem to be the center of a whole traveling kayaking world. He seems to know simply everyone. They have paddled and or traveled is more places than I could imagine and they are just really fun to be around. I've parked Homey in the driveway and although they have offered me my own room I've been sleeping in the van. It really become my own little space and gives me a sense of home. Sandy has given me a bunch of ideas for my presentation for Coastbusters. As the weather is to bad to paddle I hope to get it in shape today. If the weather breaks I hope that I can get a chance to paddle with Sandy and Waveney and some of their friends. It would be a real shame to not get the opportunity to go out with them.

Kaikoura

Well it finally happened! I got to dip a paddle in the water. After spending a placid night along the road side I awoke to find a beautiful day. During the night the sound of the ocean waves were only ocationally interrupted by the odd passing lorrie and twice by a freight train who's track lay just on the the other side of the highway. After making my coffee I watched the sun rise on the ocean and felt its warmth promise a warm wonderful day.

I drove into the town of Kaikoura which is on a small peninsula on the east coast north of Christchurch. It is know for its Whale watching, seals and rugged coast line. I rolled in to town and knew that I would kick my self if I didn't get on the water today. The forcast was for a cold southerly storm in a day or two and this was the warm weather that preceedes a storm, so I wasn't going to waste it. I called the local Kayaking shop, Kaikoura Kayaking, and booked a boat for a 3 hour tour, (choirs - a 3 hr tour). I waited in a parking lot for the boat to arrive as the this kayaking company had no shop per say and just used the local outdoors shop and the information kiosk for bookings. Well a mini van pulling a trailer full of boats and a wide tanned face of the guide stepped out. I walked up and greeted him. His name was Matt Foy, greeted me back with a hardy hand shake and the standard kiwi greeting of "G'day" He was going to be taking out a couple in a double and he was going to allow me to take a single out by my self although it wasn't his policy to allow folks to paddle on there own, no matter how skilled. I could almost here him saying to him self "This bloody Yank better not get himself in trouble in my boat".

We headed around to the south side of the peninsula where we off loaded and I promised I would be back by 3:30 and paddled off. The Kaikoura peninsula is surrounded by may rock and made for some great rock gardening. The local fur seals are so used to visitor that I was able to get right next to them before there comfort level was exceeded. As I was on my own I resisted to temptation to plow thu some of the more challenging areas but still had a great time and even got a little surfing in. It was a beautiful day, warm and windless. The water that wasn't rushing around rocks was glassy. When I returned Matt had already taken the couple in the double back and was returning while I was on shore changing out of my gear and hanging it to dry. We loaded his boat and I gave him some CCK swag and he headed off.
It was such a beautiful day I figured that I would just make myself a late lunch / early dinner and get some sun. I was sitting there in my lawn chair enjoying the view and the warmth on my skin for about an hour when Matt pulls up with a van full of clients and asks if I would like to go out again and give him a hand. Of course I said sure, that my gear was too dry anyway. So I got back into my stuff and we headed out.

We had 4 doubles and me in a single. Matt was paddling in the back of one of the doubles. As it was so nice I figured it would be a nice easy paddle but that would change!!! One we had gotten about a 1/4 mile out to Shark Tooth Point Matt had the group raft up and pointed south and asked the group what they say. I didn't see anything but a whale watching boat heading in from the open sea. What Matt saw was a line of white caps in he distance. He then asked me what I thought that meant. I replied that it meant 15knt winds at least, but I still didn't feel any wind on my face. He had a good eye and knew his waters, so he told the group that we weren't going around the point but just explore the more protected rocks where we were rafted up. Not more that a few minutes passed when the wind began to pick up. Water that was glassy and smooth only moment before was not a wiped washing machine of 2ft wind waves and at least a 20knt wind blowing us into the rocks. The clients eyes got big and I could tell that it was time to call it a day and get the folk back to terra firma! Matt thought the same thing, and in a voice that was calm and controlled he informed the group that we would be paddling back in. The group didn't argue (their eye's he size of dinner plates) so we started the process of getting these folks back to the van and off the rocks. Now I've been out in these type of conditions before many times and for experienced Kayaker this would be considered play time as the wind wave were immenently surfable. But for these beginners it was life and death at the hands of a unforgiving sea. Matt already had one boat on tow and I was cursing myself for not grabbing my tow rope before we left. I worked with the two remaining doubles to keep them off the rocks. A young couple from England didn't quite make it. They ended up hooked up on a rock and I quickly calmed them and pulled them and their boat off and sent them through a slot between rocks that would allow them to use the wind instead of working against it. We sailed through and caught the rest up on the beach. After tell the clients what fun they had ( liked they believed us) we loaded up the boats and Matt and I comment to our selves what luck that I had been there to help out. I'm sure that Matt would have gotten them in. I know I could have but I would have had a serious pucker factor going on if I was alone with that group ( been there, done that!). So after dropping them off Matt invited me back to his place to crash for the night.

Matt and his buddies seem to be the local adventure guides in town. They are the local dive masters, surfer, and kayaker guides. If I were to guess I would say they were all in there late 20's all loving life and living it as only young single guys can. Matt made us a wonderful stir fry dinner and we all sat around and watch movies on TV. This also gave me a chance to catch up on my email and blogging as well as get a load of laundry done. Later that night the rain came and the wind was still very strong. I headed off to sleep in Homey which was parked out back. The night got colder and colder. By morning I had put on several layers of clothes and could see my breath in the van. By day break the storm had passed, the wind had died down and the sun was shining. My clothes dried and I was ready to head to Christchurch. Before I left Matt asked if I would like to meet up with him and help him out with a three day class in Able Tasmen. As that coincided with my plans on being in that area I said I would love to so I guess its another play date. Next Stop Christchurch!

Homey's first Big Day

We are let off of the ferry at Picton, a sleepy little town that mainly exists to service the ferry. Which is about how much time I spend on it. I hit the road to the east coast, Hwy 1. This will be the first real shake down for Homey. We start down the road and a eye bleeding 60 kph. Straining up the climbs. But Homey did great. Just chugged along. In fact it runs better on the open road than it did in town. Our first stop is to check out a kayak in Blenheim. The boat is an old Current design Storm. I had a picture in my mind of the boat we had at CCK, long sleek with tons of storage. But apparently this is not the same boat. After chatting with the owner, who was a really nice guy. I let the boat go and figured I could make it to my next stop Kaikoura. Homey did a hero's labor over the mountains and finally we came to the sea. It's funny but the drive kind of reminded me of my trip to Baja ( accept this road had guard rails ). It was getting dark and I was getting hungry so I pulled of the road to cook up some dinner ( top ramen and peanuts ) and watch the surf bound the beach. This was a beautiful example of a dumping wave. I mean pounding the beach. I kept thinking that if this was the CALM east coast what could the west coast be like!
After finishing up dinner I decided to stay the night. Now this location was well back from the road so and it was level and had a great view of the beach and the anticipated sunrise. Unlike my first night in Wellington, this was a calm and clear night, full of strange stars and familiar patterns.

You know that ferry boat are really big ships. The sight of one spinning on it access and then backing into the dock as easy as I would swing into a parking lot is a awesome sight. And at last my ship has come. We drive up and start pouring out of a cars, truck and assorted tramper vans ( like Homey ). And head up for the passenger deck. I get half way up the stairs and notice that once the ship gets under way "Passengers are not allowed back to the vehicles once the ship is at sea". Now I've been on ferries like this before in British Columbia and I remember going back and forth during the crossing. So I figure I better run back and get what I need as I won't get a chance later. SO I fix my self a rather large cocktail and put it in a nalgene bottle. Grab an extra jacket and head back up to the passenger deck.
The crossing will take about 4 hours. The ship give a great shutter and we pull away into the harbor headed for the South Island. The wind is brutal the swell so great that its flying over the bow and spraying the brave folks standing on the 2nd level. The boat is rock'n and a roll'n. I mean side to side, up and down, and we haven't even clear the harbor. Wild. Actually leaving Wellington is the worst part of the crossing. Something to do with the shape of the harbor, it funnels all the waves and wind into its mouth. Once we cleared the harbor it calmed down to 15ft swells. Needless to say I now understand why the don't let passengers near their cars while at sea! I am also thankful as with all the pitching and rolling no one noticed my stumbling about after finishing off the aforementioned cocktail.