March 27: Paihia and surrounds

Previously: March 26

Today, our goal was to go sea kayaking. We’ve done lake kayaking for 2 years now, so we’re not complete amateurs, but ocean boating is different from lakes: the weather can be wilder and the waves much bigger. We opted to go with Bay of Islands Kayaking, as it looked like they had the best selection of options, and seemed better prepared than the other companies. There was a bit of confusion arranging our tour, as we'd arrived late and it’s late in the season, so there are fewer tours available than during the main season. So it took a few go-rounds before we finally settled on today as a date when the weather would be suitable and there were enough people to justify holding a tour. In addition to us, there was a couple from Seattle (Melissa and Tom?) and their daughter Margaret.

On the day of the tour, it was quite blustery and looked like rain. I amused our guide and earned a swat from Shoshanna for complaining that we might get wet if it rained. Curtis, our guide, is an interesting guy: 20-something with a charming Scotch accent, from Newcastle, trained in welding before he left school (the Scottish shipbuilding industry has just about vanished), ended a romantic relationship in frustration, and fled to just about the farthest cornes of the world from Scotland—on essentially no notice. (He sent out 10 resumes, received immediate job offers from 8, and 3 weeks later, was guiding tours in Bay of Islands. He loves it here, and can’t imagine leaving. He’s very experienced in kayaks and the ocean, having served on the local marine search and rescue group back in Scotland. Many entertaining tales, including the one about one of his colleagues whose boat broke down and who paddled miles in a boat completely not designed for paddling rather than call his colleagues for a rescue.

Curtis picked us up at our hostel and the family just a bit down the road, and then drove us to the town of Russel, known in the 1800s as “the hellhole of the Pacific”. This was where sailors who’d been at sea for 6 months finally arrived in New Zealand, and ran amok. I immediately turned to Shoshanna, and commented aloud that “a more wretched hive of scum and villainy” you’ll never find. (For the non-fans in the audience: That’s the line Obi Wan Kenobi uses to describe Mos Eisley spaceport to young Luke when they’re getting ready to flee their planet and enter the war against the Empire. Shoshanna, of course, got the reference immediately; it took the others a few moments, but Star Wars is such a part of culture these days, they did get it. It was particularly apropos given that we passed a sailboat named the Millennium Falcon—no, really!—the following day on our last island hop before moving on to Opononi.)

Because of the wind strength, Curtis moved us from the original launch point, which would have meant a difficult outward journey and moderately difficult return. At the new launch point, we'd have a tough upwind slog outbound but easier return, with the wind mostly at our backs. It ended up being a good choice, as we had several islands to give us some shelter from the wind, which was very necessary. The wind was blowing about as hard as it’s even been while we were on the water. Not dangerously so, but enough to require persistent hard work to make progress against the wind, get through the wind tunnel between islands, and make it to the sheltered lee of an island. Significant waves too. We used spray skirts for the first time. There are like rubbon aprons that calsp your waist tightly to keep out water and whose bottom seals you into the boat to prevent water from entering. They came in very useful given the amount of water that occasionally swept the decks when we hit an unusually large wave.

We were all in dual kayaks, with Shoshanna in front of ours and me in back. To complicate matters, our kayak used a “skeg”, which is a rudder you can raise or lower and steer with your feet. It's very useful in a wind or with steep waves, since it lets you compensate for the effects of the waves. It’s complex to get the rhythm down right, since you have to guide the skeg into the turn as the force of (say) a wave or gust of wind tries to divert your course, then release the pressure as the force slackens and you return to your original course. For the first couple hours, I was slewing all over the place because the pedals that control the skeg feel too much like the foot braces you press against while you're paddling our kayaks, which lack a skeg. But by the end of the day, I was getting the hang of it.

We stopped after the first hour on a lovely sandy beach so we could stretch our legs and our shoulders and catch our breath from the hard work. It was good we rested, because we had one more tough stretch of open water to cross, and in addition to the wind, we had squalls forming upwind, increasing the wind strength as they bore down on us. We never felt in any danger—we’ve been on the water long enough to be completely at ease and Curtis knows the sea too well to do anything risky—so it was more exhilirating than scary, but it was hard work.

After another hour, we made it to our destination, which was Waewaetorea Island. It’s a saddle-shaped island with a low area in the middle with a beatiful sandy beach between two large rises with peaks that offer beautiful panoramic views of the bay and its many islands. The ground was covered in grass so thick and spongy it was like walking on a trampoline. We walked up one hillside so we could see one half of the bay, and then descended and climbed the other side so we could see the other half. Bay of Islands is beautiful, and you chould spend hours just watching the world go by and listening to the surf.

Lunch was wraps that we built from luncheon meat, good mayo, and a mountain of sliced veggies, prepared on the spot by Curtis. Plus potato chips to replenish lost salt—though my face and glasses were crusted with salt spray—and chocolate mint or caramel cookies to replace the sugar. No beer, but we long-distance mariners must make certain sacrifices.

The wind remained strong, but on the way home, it was mostly at our back, letting us make the trip in about half the time it took outbound. The waves (the “swell”) was strong, and helped push us along, and we fell into an easy rhythm. I was even able to manipulate (pedipulate?) the skeg well enough to keep to a straight course, even when the waves tried to push us in a different direction. Very satisfying.

One nice thing about Curtis is that even though changing launch points to make the day easier for us cost him another 10 to 20 minutes leaving Paihia and again returning, that didn’t come out of our time on the water. We’d booked a 6-hour tour, and we got a full 6 hours. (Shoshanna afterwards noted that it was a good thing that we hadn’t gone on a 3-hour tour, and we mourned the fact that we were probably the only ones on the tour who would get the Gilligan’s Island reference. We old mariners are fonts of obscure wisdom.)

Dinner that night was at the appropriately named Green’s Thai Restaurant, where we had green-lipped mussels as Shoshanna’s appetizer, spicy hot Thom Kham soup for mine, and then shared delicious lamb with basil stir-fry and a duck coconut milk curry. Not sure the lamb worked well in the stir-fry, as the flavor is a bit too strong, but it was unusual and yummy. All washed down with Speight’s Old Dark beer for Shoshanna and their Golden Ale for me. Yummy! So much food that we had enough leftovers for breakfast the next day.

Next installment: March 28