Tsunami fishing weekend - March 12-13 2011

Phenomenal.. we happened to be at the one spot in NZ where the Tsunami came ashore. Port Charles on the Coramandel. Friday we had heard about the tragedy in Japan. Awoke early Saturday, 6am to see what that meant for us, lodged in a "Batch",( summer home), on the shoreline of a funnel bay. As we ate our breakfast some of us wandered out under massive Norfolk Pines to see what appeared to be a one meter bore coming towards us. ( Like the one in Turn Around Bay in Alaska ). It struck the shore to the left of the bay and bounced into the right hand corner, swept past where we were standing, filling the bay way above the high tide line of previous days, a roaring river of brown water traversing and parallel to the shore line. Bloody Hell ! Huge logs went past at about 10 mph ; then , it slowed down , went slack and all went back, perhaps a 1/2 mile, leaving fish flapping in small pools. The Mauri family staying with us immediately jumped into the bay and started catching fish, picking up cockles and oysters but there was a lot of concern as it was obvious that another surge was building. " Get outa" thir, it's chenging, it's dengerous!" Every 9 minutes for the next 3 hours the tide changed from full to absolute slack. Our first wave came at dead low tide. Probably saved us from what happened later at full high tide.

After watching 10 tide comings and goings we felt reasonably unconcerned that the tsunami was going to have any negative effect as, so far, nothing serious had happened. We, Neil, Graham, Graeme and I, went surf fishing in Sandy bay, a half hour drive over a mountain where really funny things happened. Graham cast a normal 30 yards and Neil, quickly walked out as the tide receded, to tell him that there were no fish on his hook. He stood in 8" of water. Graham ran towards Neil, cast again and then again before he started to back pedal to keep out of the water of the incoming tide. When he reached the beach, his line was 200 yards out in deep water! Then the tide went out and his hook was lying 200 yards out on wet ground. Completely nuts. Shore casting didn't work so we decided to drop a long line , hooks on meter centers. Graham prepared to take a kayak out trolling as he drew the line off the beach . He placed the boat in the water, arraigned the fishing rods in the holders, began to sit down; but by this time the water was 10 meters into the bay. He was sitting in a boat on a sandy beach watching the water disappear. We roared with laughter! " How you going to paddle that boat?" He eventually got it in the water about 50 meters from the shore. The rest of us tied bait and slowly released the line as Graham paddled out. He succeeded but when we pulled in the line a half hour later, every hook was shiny clean. We surmised, tiny fish stripped the bait; the bigger ones had left for the ocean.

Screw it, we decided to go back to our beach. Neil parked in the shade under the pines, ( 3-4 feet above the road surface parallel to the beach and 6 - 8 feet above the normal high tide mark). I was in swim trucks, barefoot , and started picking up new bits of drift wood delivered to the beach by the last wave. Other people watching the bay started making warning sounds. " It's bigger and really moving. Holy shit, look what's happening in the bay, the water's boiling". I had left a towel hanging on a stump just off the grassy bank which moments before had been 2 meters above the surging water. By the time I had taken 3 steps and grabbed the towel, the water was mid calf and debris was pushing against my legs. Someone shouted " Git the cahs outta thir", meaning the depression in front of the Batch. I sloshed/ran through the house into the back yard towards the tent to strip and save the bedding and place it on a woodpile ( which fortunately didn't float off ) and stuffed " chilly bins" , portable ice boxes under the tent floor so it wouldn't be flooded. As I got the last mattress out, a 2 foot high surge of water rounded the corner of the house and instantly filled the backyard. Most of the cars made it up the road to high land. One, to which no keys were available, flooded to the seats. A farmer offered us his pasture for the night and, lock, stock and barrel, 18 people moved to a site, 400 feet above the bay; Tsunami survivors in a meadow filled with cow flaps, no worse for the experience besides lots of wet gear, ( which dried out under a moonless night in the starlight of the milky way.)

As the weekend came to a close, I thanked my hosts for putting on one of the best weekends ever; "you really didn't need to go to so much trouble. The food, drink and company were fine; The Tsunami was " over the top" .

We found out later that almost no other place on the North Island was affected. Love and All best wishes, Nick, Dad, dadadski

New Zealand Feb 7 – 8

Returned to Pakuranga where Allan had made a delicious curry dinner. Met Neil at the RSA and agreed to leave for Piahia (“ pie here” but the r is silent) 350 km north, next morning at 10.

At Waipu a tiny town of 200 was a museum describing the longest migration to NZ of Scots through Nova Scotia 1832 to Australia 1834, and finally to Waipu 1836 where they settled and flourished. They brought tools and skills learned in the NS boat building and lumber industries and applied them to the incredible timber available in NZ.

We spent the next 2 nights in the “ Pickled Parrot” Backpackers lodge; bunk beds, noisy, hot, mosquitoes and snoring. Didn’t bother me at all but, Neil found a motel owner willing to rent at ½ price ( the season had been very slow and ½ was better than 0 ), so we moved into a kitchenette with separate beds and a swimming pool for $25 more a night than the Backpackers!

I wandered about this highly touristic town. High speed boats, sailing cruises with dolphins thrown in, a trip to the 90 mile beach, jumping out of airplanes, the highest paraglide behind a boat and so on. I beach combed and then saw a fair on the meadow designed to sell stuff to cruise ship passengers. First guy I talked to was a bowl turner and my virgin intro to Ancient KAURI a most extraordinary wood. It is usually mined ! 40-50,000 years ago by carbon dating an immense Tsunami felled standing Kauri , many 3 – 4000 years old at the time, all in one direction and silt deposit buried these immense trees. The pitch or GUM these trees produce will preserve them almost indefinitely so the wood is workable in anyway lumber can be used. These trees grow to be 40 feet in diameter and 90 feet to their crown. They shed their limbs leaving no knots; the ultimate carpenter’s dream. When the British came here they had just lost America and their source for the timber need to build masts for their navy. Kauri represented an incredible resource and may have been one of the deciding factors to colonize New Zealand and a treaty with the Maori in 1840. Anyway, ancient kauri, specially the roots which have so much fire and chatoyancie ( the way the grain reflects light, like tiger eye), from deep brown of red and orange, naturally excites any wood worker like me.

Back to the fair: the bowls turned in NZ are much heavier than those of Hawaii, more substantial, with a robust heft that makes one feel it will last forever. Of course, the turner looks for Chatoyancie and like a water color painter, stops at the right moment which is so crucial to the beauty of the piece. He also sand blasted designs onto flat sections of highly polished wood. Very effective. This wood is orgasmic! The highlight of my NZ trip has been meeting carvers and woodworkers. More later...

In the same art fair, I noticed hedgehogs made with folded paper and a lady who was creating paintings using white glue to hold sand or broken shells in bold, Maori patterns. Probably uses a profile cut out, of which she has 100’s. She also centered a Paua shell into 2” deep frame and I saw where another inspiration for Maori tattoos.

Neil suggested that I walk from Hururua falls to the Treaty meeting ground. My first walk in a NZ jungle! I was struck by the beauty of the ferns both in their live and dead forms and especially the Koru, the one with a giant fiddlehead surrounding tiny heads within; “a wheel within a wheel a turning”. Although the symbol of this fern is everywhere in Maori carving and culture, I still haven’t found one carved to exactly represent it. I guess I’ll have a go. The walk took me alone , along the river’s edge. Some cliff overlooks dropped, completely unprotected, to the water, 50-70 feet below. I walked on through forests of fern and giant Pahootakawa trees (another favorite tree found at the steep sea shore edge; it has amazing thick branches, twists and turns and the old boat builders found them to be ideal for crooks, bows or any place great strength at funny angles was required). The trail came down to a mangrove forest, quite different from Florida’s. Separate trees growing 10 to 15 feet apart, in standing water with hundreds of coral-like, 6 to 8 inch long nubs of new growth, sticking up from the swamp floor. I stood for a while on a bridge and noticed a swirl. I focused and saw what had earlier been described as a “Tiger” trout, a fish the shape and size of trout, but with slashed yellow claw marks top to bottom on a transparent, nearly watercolored fish. Hard to see them. Wish I had my fly rod with me.

The trail was only 6km long but it took me nearly 3 hours for all my stopping and playing. I whittled, photographed, had a quick skinny dip, and finally made it to the Waitangi Treaty grounds. Great views of the Bay of Islands, a stupendous Maori war canoe, made of three hollowed out pieces of Totara, stitched together with vine and glued with Kaori gum. Bow and stern carved in traditional geometric style. The place where the 1840 treaty was signed was pre-fabricated in Australia, a fairly normal English house with lovely flower gardens and a well laid out vegetable garden (10 acres or so). The Maori Lodges (a marae), is more recent and the interior has specific carvings panels, 12 feet high, 2 wide representing 16 of the separate tribes (the Maori were very well represented by the treaty which gave them rights to their traditions and traditional lands. From what I gather, they feel that the Europeans took their land from them, the Europeans contend that, had colonization not happened, the Maori were doomed to the fate of the Christmas Islanders. They had used up all the countries resources and had resorted to cannibalism, eating each other for food). I have been tangentially immersed in Maori culture since I arrived as there is a Maori TV station, they are everywhere in modern society and most museums seem to concentrate on educating the traveler with Maori legends and history.

The next 2 days were spent doing touristy things. First day was “Swim with the Dolphins” , 2^nd day “ The 90 mile beach, sand surfing, Cape Reinga, The Gum Museum and a store called “Ancient Kaori”. The first was on a wet day and visibility was limited. We found a pod of 50 or 60 dolphins frolicking about and were told we could not swim with them as there were babies present. ( This is most of the time so the claim to swim is mostly bs and promotional). The second day started at 7am and returned to Piahia about 13 hours later. We drove about 500 km in a fairly comfortable bus; normal routine, on the bus for an hour, 20 minutes off.

The 90 mile beach was actually 64 as it had been estimated by someone in the 1800’s and the name has stuck. Tide tables must be considered as the beach vanishes in high tides and many vehicles have been drowned if the driver miscalculates. Interesting for the first few minutes. Reminded me of flying the trike 5’ off the sand in Portugal but, of course, we were inside a modern bus, no wind and lots of people. As we left the beach we stopped at an immense 1000 foot high sand dune where the riders were offered the chance to body board. Single file they ( not me) followed the bus driver, a young guy full of beans, to the top and chucked themselves down a 45 degree slope. Some came off and had to chase their lightweight boards across the slope. I believe that a few managed to make 3 runs before re-boarding. Sweaty work.

Cape Reinga , the most northern point of NZ has an ancient lighthouse. It is also the place the Maori believe their souls leave to return to their legendary Hawakii, from whence they originated. Very dramatic coastline plunging 1000’s of feet to a snarling ocean. Great ocean wind on a sunny clear day. One has to be careful as NZ’s ozone offers much thinner protection than say, Hawaii. I thought I had a good tan, but in 1 hour of NZ sun, I felt as though I’d been too close to a furnace.

Our return took us to the Gumdigger’s Museum, a place where Slovenians mined the Kauri gum to be used for turpentine and various other shellacs. Extremely hard work as the trees had to be “discovered or felt” with long iron rods poking into the ground. Then they would dig down and along the trunk in hopes of finding the gum , ( like sap from pine trees, except, if they were lucky, in very large quantities.) The last generation of gum diggers realized the dynamite was quicker and the fastest of their family, a young girl, set the fuse and ran. Gum is no longer in demand as synthetic finishes have replaced it.