New Zealand Discoverer
Day Sixteen – 12 March 2012 – Day at the Beach
Weather: Partly cloudy, 18-20
I went down to my usual breakfasts with creamy eggs and vienna sausage. The English muffins toasted with strawberry jam were to die for. Nicer than our English muffins.
Today is a free day and not so surprisingly, most of our tour took the day off to sleep off the plague.
Not me. Nope. I’m a sucker for punishment.
I signed up for the Cape Reinga optional but didn’t catch what it was about cause I was waiting for Nellie to tell me about the swimming with the dolphins but when that got nixed, I signed up for the full day Cape Reinga extravaganza.
Boy, was I in for a surprise. LOL
We left at 7:30 on the dot. The bus showed up early and he was saying we had to motor in order to beat the tide. I’m thinking, okay, we’re going to visit the 90 Mile Beach and can’t get down there if the tide is up. I climb aboard and see a single seat in front.
Wooohooo! It’s a bus with an engine in the front, so one seat in front is the single with tons of leg room. Spot on. My first front seat on this tour for any distance. (Definitely not the seat if you get motion sickness cause there isn’t a stretch of road longer than 20 m that is straight here. LOL. Just kidding. 30 metres. Okay. Maybe 40)
I sit down and the driver checks in some of the newcomers on our tour.
We’re short two women and our driver, Derek, is getting jumpy cause he wants to motor. Nellie, who has gotten up to see us off (even though she doesn’t look well) runs around looking for them. They show up at 7:32 on the bus clock. They say they’re there 7:30 on the dot.
By their watch.
Guess that calls for another public announcement. Be five minutes early. You never know when the driver’s watch is fast. Not as big a deal with the regular coach cause you figure out pretty quick and set your watch to the TD’s time. But on a day tour, don’t leave it to arriving “on the dot.”
Especially when you’re racing the tide.
We start the Disney ride over the curvy northland roads. Yeah. Even the drives in New Zealand can be thrilling.
It’s a centrifugal force thing.
Derek gives us a low down on the day (I’m not telling yet). He does say that the bus makes a stop at the end of the day to get cleaned and asks how many Aussies are on board. Some put up their hands.
That’s their job.
He reminds us of the emergency exits and notes that the engine is in the front, so that if there’s a fire, just leave him to burn and get out. He says not to bother with the fire extinguisher because, well, it’s sitting next to the engine.
Then he says our life jackets are under our seat.
Life jackets?
Got ya!
Remember, I don’t know what we’re doing yet. LOL
Derek goes on to say that the bus is equipped with six inflated floatation devices. They’re called tires.
Remember, I still don’t know exactly what we’re doing.
So the wheels (okay, floatation devices) are spinning in my head.
We pass a town called Kerikeri. Apparently, it got it’s name from the Maori when they saw the first horse drawn plough here and said kerikeri. Didn’t catch what it meant. Maybe it was “why didn’t we think of that?”
The town is a citrus growing area and Derek, who hates kiwi fruit, tells us that the name was changed from Chinese Gooseberries to Kiwi so that people wouldn’t think they came from China.
Oh, I finally found out where the nickname kiwi came from and it’s pretty cool. The kiwi bird owned it first and they think it came from the sound it makes. Then the shoe polish was named for the bird. Then in WWI, the New Zealanders used to polish their boots with it and they got the nickname of Kiwi.
What fascinates me is that they embrace the nickname so readily. I’m called a Newf or Newfie and I don’t mind it but some people think it’s an insult. To me, it’s how it’s used. But down here, they’re Kiwis and they’re proud of it.
Next thing I know, we pass a sign that said Free Internet. I tried to get a picture to prove it exists here, but missed it.
After an hour or so, we come upon Doubtless Bay.
No doubt who named it. Cause he said to his first mate when they pulled it that it was “doubtless a bay.”
Those English.
Then we come across Cable Bay. Can’t blame the English for this one. We Canadians are responsible…kinda. A cable that goes ashore in British Columbia stretches all the way to Cable Bay, New Zealand.
Imagine finding a break in that line.
At 9:06, we stop at a Kauri Tree carving shop and cafe for our morning tea. Derek is insistent about the tide and says the bus “leaves” at 9:25. He reiterates, “don’t be back for 9:25. We leave at 9:25.”
Well, you knows now. Yup. One person still strolled out at 9:26, as Derek was pulling out of the parking lot. Nothing like your bus pulling away to get the blood flowing.
A few minutes up the road, he says we will pull onto 90 Mile Beach.
He said the beach was called that because it takes a cow one day to go 30 miles and they took 3 days to walk the length of the beach.
In actuality, it’s 64 miles.
Don’t tell the farmer.
So, I’m expecting to see 64 miles of highrises hotels, condos and tens of thousands of sunbathers.
Heh. (The New Zealanders reading this are chuckling).
Well, not only was there not a single person, not a single condo, not a single highrise on the beach…we were on the beach doing donuts on the sand and surf.
There’s that song in my head again.
We’ll be comin’ round the mountain…
Then it hits me. We’re driving ON the beach! (video)
Holy jumpins’ New Zealand. You really don’t do half measures, do you?
LOL. As the waves lap at the tires, I can see why Derek was in such a hurry. There’s a brisk southwest wind too and the surf is just pounding the shore. And we set off at 100 kph on this beach, the water spray on either side of us.
Yes. That’s kilometres per hour. About 65 miles per hour (video).
Wooooohooooooo!!!
Derek tells us there’s only a couple of “exits.” Other than that, the beach is lined with dunes much too high for the bus. We pass the first exit and he says this is the point of no return and he’s decided that we have time to “make it.”
Yeah!
All along the beach, behind the dunes are trees that were planted to help keep the sand in place and the whole area is protected against development. Show me a 60 mile long beach in North America that doesn’t see a sunbather, condo or hotel.
We did see one dog walker.
They like to do this drive in groups as a safety thing and the “backpacker” bus is ahead of us, but not going through the water. Derek says the driver owns that bus and doesn’t want the salt water on it.
Guess he doesn’t have any Aussies on board.
Then we come to an area where the beach goes out to a point and there are rocks that force the bus very close to the surf.
NOW we see why he was in a rush. Even with high tide 3 hours away, the waves are lapping at the rocks. He says there’s a trick to doing it by waiting for the wave to pass and gunning it so that the next wave pushes you rather than pulling on you.
Something like that.
All I know is I was hanging on.
We went through, making our own waves and start doing donuts while the other two buses go through the waves (video). He gets concerned when the backpacker bus misses the right wave and gets a deeper patch, but it makes it.
Good thing, cause he’s got no Aussies aboard to push it out of the water, either.
I managed to also get video of the other Great Sites bus running the waves after we had gone through.
I didn’t get the final figure, but it sounds like we did all but 3 miles of the beach. Doesn’t take long at 100 kph. We stop at the beach for some pictures and as everyone returns, we watch them go to the other Great Sites bus only to turn around and come back to us (which is funnier given they had to walk past us to get to the second one).
So, we drive inland along a river stream and Derek is happy to see some water. He says it’s better than a dry bed. Less chance of getting stuck.
Good for us, too. We don’t have a lot of Aussies aboard.
He’s says the key is not to stop. Works in snow too.
Derek then pulls up to these massive sand dunes.
You know what’s coming!
Yup. We get to slide down a sand dune!
WOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
So, Derek tells us to get our shoes off, stow all the stuff in our pockets and come get a board. About 15 or 20 out of the 38 join him. He gives us a quick safety lesson.
Number one. Hold on.
That’s kinda like an iron that has a warning label on it that says “Caution: Hot.”
Number two: when holding on, pull up on the front a little.
Number three: don’t slide through the reeds at the bottle.
Someone (yes, there’s always someone) asks why not. I say cause it’s probably like hitting the chain link fence at the bottom of my favourite tobogganing hill. (Not that I would know…just imagining that is what it would be like).
And lastly, he says we’ll be sliding down on the left hand side where there is a long gentle slope at the bottom where it’s easy to stop. (He notes this after one boarder comes down on the right side where the slope ends suddenly at the base. We all cringe but this kid has enough sense to know how to hold the board a survives the bang at the bottom.)
Oh, and number five: use your feet to slow and stop yourself.
Cool. Off we go.
Oh, and number six: watch for sliders so that we don’t play bowling pin.
So, off we go, climbing the sand dune.
Where one pays for every last dessert they’ve eaten in New Zealand. Knew all that pavlova would come back to haunt me.
I huffed and puffed and took pictures and videos. By the time I got up there, there was only a couple of us left to slide from my bus.
Luckily, our driver had gone up to send us all off and got us all ahead of a growing line. I stuffed my camera and hat away, got on the slide and Derek gave me a shove.
WOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
LOL.
Just like tobogganing but with that feeling that you really don’t want to fall off cause sand is so much less forgiving than snow.
And of course, when you toboggan, you’re wearing a lot of padding.
I found I was able to control my descent easily with my feet, so I let go on the middle section and just motored down the hill. I held on to the front of the board but could feel my body wanting to go forward on the board. A quick dip of the feet brought me back. I didn’t want to tumble face first.
I like my teeth as they are.
Then I saw the reeds. My brakes set in and stopped me about 2 feet short. The driver came down shortly after me and went a little farther to the right so that he went between a patch of reeds, across the river and came to rest at the feet of two guys who got a bit of a fright.
I start to walk away and stop to roll up my jeans for the stream when two guys yell out. I turn around to see one of the backpackers coming down the left hill far too close to the crowd.
Seriously, dude.
Or dud. That works too.
I give up on rolling up my pants and walk back to the bus when I heard someone scream “watch out” or words to that effect. I turned around to see a woman laying on the ground in a contorted position at the bottom of the backpacker sliding area. I thought someone had hit someone else cause the woman who was down was middle-aged and somewhat large.
Then the driver said she had come down with both arms spread eagle like she was flying.
Well, guess what?
She flew.
Remember I said I felt like I was moving forward on my board. Without holding on, there’s nothing to stop you from taking off like a missile if the board slows. That’s why the drivers tell you to hold on.
Guess that’s why an iron says “Caution: hot.”
Our driver was incensed that the backpacker tour let them go down that side. It’s much too steep for first timers.
The woman was obviously unconscious and what does the first person to her do? Turns her head!
Dude!!
Another public announcement. If you see someone take a tumble that so obviously affected their head and neck, DON’T MOVE THEM. Check to make sure they’re breathing. If they are then leave them alone until someone who knows how to move a possible neck injured person arrives. This guy never checked her breathing. Just knelt next to her and flipped her head.
Someone asked our driver to call for help but then said not to because she was conscious.
Could she move her toes, I wondered?
We never found out. We left the amazing dunes and the Darwin Award Nominee. The driver said he hoped this would force the backpacker tourguide to stop letting people slide down the left side of the dune.
We drove down the river for a couple minutes and finally saw asphalt!
Now it was off to Cape Reinga. Derek tells us that this area is sacred to the Maori because this is where the spirits exit this world. No food or drink is allowed on the trail because the bad spirits might be tempted to stay (I believe that’s what he said).
No problems with cell phones. The food and drink rule pre-dates cellular technology.
Derek also tells us that for $20, we can plant a native tree in the area.
Count me in.
They have pre-determined the GPS location of their pre-dug holes and give you the coordinates and and email address so that you can email them for a picture of your tree. Mine has a nice view of the Pacific.
There’s a trail around the coast and we walk down to the lighthouse. The sun is out, the wind is high and it’s a gorgeous day.
The surf looks beautiful pounding the bays below.
Takes about 15 minutes to walk down to the lighthouse and there is a sign showing you the distance to various locations. I now know how far I have to go to Vancouver.
As one comedian said about going to New Zealand…”It may be a beautiful spot, but I do not know…because after 15 hours on an airplane, any landmass would be beautiful.”
Hmmm. That doesn’t work quite as well for Vancouver.
We leave Cape Reinga and go in the only direction possible. South on State Highway 1 which ends some 2500 km away. The roads twist and turn and dip and this driver has obviously done this drive a few times. I’m sitting white knuckled in the front seat while he’s taking corners I’m sure he’ll never make, but he knows his bus.
Well, it’s not his bus. Otherwise he wouldn’t have driven in the salt water on the beach.
Heh.
Then we turn a corner and come to a screeching halt.
The bus was screeching. Not me.
Only in New Zealand can a major state highway come to a standstill….because of sheep.
Yup. It was a traffic lamb….I mean jam.
The car in front of us stops (well, yeah) but the passengers get out to take pictures.
Tourists!
Our driver grumbles and goes on to drive through the sheep which oblige the big bus by getting out of the way. I get pictures and video!
Not far up the road, he pulls over next to a paddock just full of sheep and asks if anyone wants a picture.
Who am I to say no?
About a dozen others follow me off the bus (I think if I hadn’t got off, no one would have. LOL. Just as long as they don’t follow me through the Halifax airport, they’re fine).
I notice that they’re all women too.
I get back on and thank the driver and tell him that’s the first picture I’ve gotten of a field full of sheep that wasn’t blurry.
Or as I say….blurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…y.
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahahahaha.
Please tell me you got that. The driver loved it.
As we pull away, the driver apologizes to all the New Zealanders on board for the stop to take pictures of sheep and says that, after all, they are on a tourist bus and this is what tourists do in New Zealand.
Derek points out a beautiful white beach in the distance and says the sand is the purest white silicate in the world.
The Aussies on board disagreed.
Guess who has to vacuum out the bus now, too.
Lunch is at a place called Pukenui.
Not that that instills confidence. That’s like flying over Crash Mountain.
We stop at a fishing charter spot for a buffet lunch that was included in the price. Just a basic buffet with new New Zealand potatoes, cold turkey and ham, fish, salad and a really nice little slice of an apple cake. Hits the spot.
We move on south, popping in to drive through a little town called Mangonui where there is a lot of fish-n-chip places and beautiful scenery. After the town, Derek says we’re going to visit the forest. Now, while I’d heard Nellie refer to the Kauri tree, I really didn’t know what to look for.
So the driver pulls off onto this gravel road and drives and drives and weaves and twists and dips on this road for what seems like a long time then he comes on the mic and says “I bet you’re wondering where the hell we are?”
Rhetorical question.
Then he pulls off the road and points to a short walking trail and tells us to take that. Should only take 20 minutes if we stop to read.
Not hard to find the Kauri tree. They are massive. Huge. Tall. Wide. Amazing.
I believe he said they were the tallest trees in the world and only about 1% of the original trees remain. With trees that size, you know what the Europeans wanted them for.
Masts.
The Maori used them to make wakas (or canoes). One tree was cut down, but about 20 feet of the trunk remained – enough wood to build ten houses.
They’re protected now and I can see why. You can buy crafts and carvings here made of Kauri wood but they only use wood dug up from the swamps. Wood that is 30,000 to 60,000 years old.
We take a different route out (a shorter one) and make our way back to Paihia. Nellie had arranged to make sure those of us going on the dinner cruise could met up there since the tour gets in so late. We were 45 minutes early so I go look around town again.
We depart at 6:30 with nine people. Darryl drives the boat and a young girl named Grace makes the dinner.
It’s a really comfortable boat (on the left). As we leave the dock, Darryl asks people to make introductions and tells us that people are usually shy but that if they wear a disguise, it’s easier. So he hauls out a sailor’s hat, a captain’s hat and two pairs of gag glasses and goes around putting them on our head while we make our introductions.
When that is done, he goes on to show us the smoking area.
Yes, it’s on the boat, not off to the side somewhere. It’s in the back where an ashtray sits. He asks that people please use the ashtray and not throw the butts overboard. He asks how many of us have seen the dolphins. We put up our hands and he asks if they follow the boat. We said yes. And he said did they give us the smoking policy on the boat. We said yes, that it was strictly no smoking.
He smiles and says, yeah, the smokers after 2 hours on the boat start getting anxious and go to the back of the boat to have a cigarette and without an ashtray, the cigarettes over overboard.
And now you know why the dolphins follow the boats.
I’m still not sure if he was joking.
Then he points out the bathrooms and asks if there are any Aussies. One couple raise their hands and he tells them that they can only use them one at a time.
Heh.
I chat with one of the newbies on the tour and learn they’re from Toronto. I tell them that the forecast for Toronto tomorrow was for like 20 degrees.
The woman smiles and says “whew.” She had left her daughter in charge of her house and left her the shovel and the lawnmower.
As we pull away from the town, we pass a boat called the Alma G. Apparently, this was Zane Grey’s boat. Not sure of the story there.
We motor down towards our hotel and go under the modern road bridge to enter the river. Darryl tells us that a one time, the tall ships used to sail up this river as far as the falls. Then he says, in a perfect southern US accent, that a woman had said she didn’t believe him because <insert accent> “how would they get them under the bridge?”
Darryl then pulls up against the mangrove on the side and Grace goes out on the edge of the boat to pick some leaves. Every male eye in the boat was following her in her short shorts as she made her way around the boat.
She gave everyone a leaf and asked us to lick them.
Salt.
The mangrove desalinates its own water (as it’s the only tree that can tolerate salt water).
Then he tells us to throw the leaves overboard, for three reasons:
- It goes back into the eco-system and helps the mud that the trees grow in.
- He doesn’t want to clean up the mess; and
- Picking the leaves is not exactly legal and he wants to hide the evidence.
We sail up farther and come across birds in a tree and Darryl calls them the Long-Necked Australian Penguin. Of course, we start snapping pictures but when I get a clear one, I think..wait a sec.
It’s a cormorant.
And Darryl notes that they’re destroying the trees in the area.
Around the corner, we come to the falls. Pretty area full of trees with roofs sticking out on both shores.
After a few pictures, it gets dark and he docks the boat for dinner. He offers us fish, fish and t-bone steak.
Not a hard choice.
He says he is an electrician by trade so that he can offer us the steak as we like it rather than how the chef likes it. That means we can have it so rare, a vet could resuscitate it or so well done, they’ll brush the dust off onto a plate and give us a straw.
I go for medium.
Great steak too with those delicious new potatoes and salad. We chow down and while Grace cleans up, Darryl points the boat down river and we go under the bridge and pull up at the dock next to our hotel.
Convenient.
Darryl thanks us for sailing with him and off we go. Into the pitch blackness.
Yes, Copthorne hotel, guess what? You need a couple lights leading from the dock to the hotel.
But guess what a smart phone can do!
So, one of our party leads us to the hotel over fences and through parking lots until we’re sure we’re at the right hotel.
I’m not completely sure until I find my room, open the door and see my luggage there.
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