Northward; Bay of Islands, Cape Reinga and Back

February 6, 2010
We were picked up very early from the hotel by van, and transferred to a central bus depot, where we transferred to a large tour coach for the drive north to the Bay of Islands, and the town of Paiha. A very comfortable trip, with a very knowledgeable driver/guide, who kept us entertained with commentary. He was Maori, and thus also was able to tell us about the history and traditions of the original settlers in New Zealand. Settlers is the appropriate word, as the Maori did not arrive in New Zealand and settle until the 13th century, coming from somewhere in Polynesia (possibly as far north as the Hawaiian islands; interesting that the eternal place that Maori souls travel to after death is Hawaiiki). We learned that Maori and various Polynesian peoples can understand each others’ languages, even though they cannot communicate perfectly.


We also had some quick lessons in Maori, a language which is very melodic with a simple grammatical structure. One oddity is emphasis, to emphasize a word, on simply doubles it, explaining why so many New Zealand place names are doubled. When British settlers first arrived, there was no written Maori, and as happened also in Canada, a written language which is mostly phonetic was developed using the English alphabet. Thus, Maori words can be sounded out more or less as they are written, as the language has no stressed syllables. The one odd exception if the letter combination “wh” which is pronounced “f” leading one to suspect the linguist who developed this written language might have been influenced by Welsh.

The highway north is a good wide road, and we made good time, stopping once at a Kauri preserve at Warkworth (which had a signpost pointing to other Warkworths in the world, including the one in Ontario, 8880 miles away), and another stop at a roadhouse where we were able to purchase breakfast cooked to order, and again, very good coffee. We are beginning to understand that New Zealanders take their coffee seriously, and do not tolerate low quality. The scenery along the drive north is initially gently rolling hills, and farther north becomes more flat plain. A lot of the land is farmed, with much of it cattle grazing land, or sheep. Our driver/guide explained that the ratio of sheep to people in New Zealand has been dropping from about 10 to 1 to perhaps 6 or 7 to 1, a result of the increasing use of synthetics in fabrics dropping the price of wool. Instead beef and dairy cattle have been increasing.

As we came near to our destination of Pahia on the Bay of Islands our driver made an announcement to those of us booked into the Copthorne Hotel, which was us and one other young Indian couple. It turns out that February 6 is NOT a good day to want to book into this hotel. The reason was a quick history lesson; the foundational document of the nation of New Zealand is the Waitangi Treaty, signed by the Maori and the English settlers on February 6 at Waitangi. This is now a national historic site, where every February 6 a re-enactment attended by many thousands of people and just about every politicians of note is held. Unfortunately, the hotel we were booked into is on the Waitangi Treaty Grounds, there is only one bridge to the hotel and Treaty Grounds, and there was no way a bus was going to be able to get there. Given that our travel agency styles itself as “down-under” experts, this should have been caught.

Our driver/guide did his best, storing our luggage on the bus until his late afternoon return to Auckland, and re-booking some of the rest of our day with the operators of the Bay of Islands ferry service. During lunch in a lovely restaurant overlooking the water, we were able to see an island across the bay on which Maori warriors were holding a ceremony, and then boarded a very large war canoe to paddle across the water for the re-enactment. We then boarded a ferry to Russell, the small town which was the 1st capital of New Zealand. On the way we passed a New Zealand Navy warship, also in the bay for the celebrations. Russell is a little town that time forgot, and we took a tour around by mini-bus through streets lined with colonial houses, and also up Flag Hill, where a Maori man, beside a very tall flag pole on which was flying a Maori flag offered an alternate history to what was being celebrated across the water. Without taking too much space, not all Maori are happy with their place within New Zealand, even though Maori is one official language (the other being English) and Maori are at all levels within society and political life. The flag pole on this hill was one of controversy, the English put it up, the Maori burned it down, several times. Eventually everyone got tired of the games, and it now is up, but flies the alternative Maori flag.

We returned to the dock at Pahia, and retrieved our luggage from the bus, and parked it in the ferry building. The ferry operators, Fullers (who also operate the tour coach we came on), did their best to contact the hotel and to arrange for our pick-up. But, the time when that would become feasible (that is, the bridge cleared) kept getting pushed later and later, and finally around 7 p.m. Fullers laid on a rather large ferry boat for us and the Indian couple (at no cost to us), took us over to the hotel docks, where a hotel golf cart and trailer picked us up and took us to check in. On the way we saw the one-lane bridge that we should have crossed, which was still wall-to-wall people, and the treaty grounds were still full of visitors. The pre-booked tour of the Treaty House was simply not feasible, and in the end we never did get to see it. We got to our room, freshened up, and went in search of supper. Of course the hotel was the only possibility; ordinarily we could have caught a hotel shuttle into Pahia and had some choice of dining, but as it was, the hotel buffet was the only game in town, so we settled for that, very picked over as it was.

February 7, 2010
An early pick-up by another Fullers tour coach to take us up the west coast of North Island to Cape Reinga, the very top of the island (actually Cape Reinga is not the northern-most point, because of the way New Zealand is tilted, that honour belongs to another cape to the east, but in Maori tradition Cape Reinga figures prominently as the “top” of the North Island).

First a stop at a Kauri preserve, with a stand of mature trees with bases about 8 feet in diameter, standing hundreds of feet tall. Amazing! Then a store and rest-stop where we had a snack breakfast and some soft drinks but also to view Kauri furniture and a Kauri stump so large that it had a staircase carved into its interior as a means of getting to the 2nd story of the building. Currently, it is not legal to cut down Kauri trees; all the wood that is available for sale is either wood that predates the ban on harvesting, or it is wood from downed trees that has lain in swamps for many decades. Kauri is simply impervious to water, and a fallen tree in a swamp is as good as one newly cut. There is quite an industry in Kauri salvage from swamp lands; the salvager pays the farmer/owner for the right to the wood, drains the swamp, removes the wood, and then restores the area to usable farm land; everyone wins, all around. It’s an expensive process however, and even small pieces of Kauri furniture are very expensive.

Then onward for the drive up the 100 Mile Beach on the Tasman Sea. The drive is on hard-packed sand, as our driver told us, the only road in New Zealand graded twice daily by the tide. It is apparently not a good idea to drive this beach unless you know what you are doing; for a start, if you are driving a rental car you void your insurance. Streams cross the beach, sometimes only barely visible above ground, flowing mostly underground, leaving quicksand-like conditions. The tour coach drivers know how to read the ground, and thus merrily blast up the beach at speeds approaching 100 km/hour, but there is very little other traffic. Incidentally, the 100 Mile Beach is more like a 100 km Beach (about 60 miles), named by the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman, possibly not the greatest navigator, who gave New Zealand its name, but unaccountably failed to claim it for Holland. The claim for the British crown was made by Captain Cook, some time after Tasman, hence a British colony with a Dutch name.

On the way north on the beach one passes an island that the sea has worn a hole through (not the only one around) which figures in Maori mythology. When a Maori dies, the soul travels up the Tasman Coast, along the 100 Mile Beach, and then dips into the ocean through this hole as a means of purification before continuing northward to Cape Reinga. At Cape Reinga the soul enters the (at that point) South Pacific ocean along the roots of a sacred tree, and continues its journey to the Maori paradise Hawaiiki.

For the mortal person on a tour coach, one leaves the beach along a shallow river valley bordered on the northern side by quite high (several hundred feet) sand dunes, and those so inclined can engage in yet another New Zealand “sport” - sand dune surfing. One climbs to the top of the dune carrying a simple flexible sheet of plastic; lies on it, pulls up on the front of the sheet, and shoots downhill. The tricky part is stopping at the bottom by dragging feet, before hitting a watery, swampy area. If lucky, you arrive dry, but with clothing, mouth, nose, etc. filled with sand. After a few turns at this, the tour continues.

Up the Tasman Sea cost, and through some parts of the interior, one arrives at Cape Reinga. The final 500 metres is on foot, on well-paved paths, but with some steep hills. The Cape itself is marked by a light house, and far to the north are three uninhabited islands named the Three Kings by Abel Tasman; he sailed by them on Epiphany Day (historical inquiry; did Captain Cook get his habit of naming islands and places after the days in the Church year on which he discovered them from Abel Tasman, or was that simply something explorers did in those days?) It is to the north of Cape Reinga that the Tasman Sea and the South Pacific Ocean meet. As the tides in the two oceans are different, the sea is quite rough at times; on our day there it was relatively mild, but even to the naked eye it was obvious that there were strong currents and eddies. Just a few hundred metres to the east is a rocky promontory, quite rugged, with a very wind-blown tree clinging by its roots to the very end of the rock. That is the tree roots down which Maori souls travel.

From Cape Reinga we travelled southward through the middle of the island, which at this point is very narrow, a dozen kilometres or so, with very good views of the Pacific coast. Eventually we stopped for lunch in the small village of Houhora on Houhora Bay. The latter is a sheltered lagoon with a narrow entrance protected for most of its width by a sandbar, making it an ideal harbour. It attracts a considerable number of high-skill amateur sailors (you have to be good to sail the Pacific) and we were served lunch, buffet style, at the local yacht club, which obviously is very practised at this and probably raises considerable funds for a quite lovely building, and probably keeps membership fees reasonable.

Then we continued south, eventually returning to the route we had taken north. New Zealand, being sparsely populated in many parts, often has only one road in some parts. After a bit of sightseeing from the bus we were returned to our hotel.

After a full day we were tired enough not to want to explore the village, so settled for the buffet dinner again. This time it was a pleasant surprise; without the previous day’s crowds, everything was fresh, and excellently prepared.

February 8, 2010
Up early, pack up our luggage, have breakfast, in time for pick-up by the hotel shuttle to the docks at Pahia where we are booked for the all day “Cream Trip - A Day in the Bay” on yet another of the ubiquitous Fuller boats. The ferry company stores our luggage, assuring us it will be put onto the coach by which we will return in the late afternoon to Auckland. Then onto a very large, several hundred passenger catamaran for what will be an all day cruise of the Bay of Islands.

A note on the name, Cream Trip. In the early 1920s, a local boat operator, Captain Fuller, ran a daily trip around the Bay of Islands, delivering mail, and picking up the milk and cream from the farms on the many islands. As tourists arrived from southern Auckland, he saw an opportunity, and invited tourists to join on this trip, to see the Bay. Eventually, the milk and cream industry vanished, and tourism became the primary source of income in the Bay, and Fullers developed into its present day form of a ferry service not only in the Bay of Islands, but also in Auckland. However, the Cream trip, which follows the original route, still delivers mail, and packages from shops, and anything else, to the cottagers and permanent residents on the islands.

The Bay of Islands is listed as one of 1001 places to see before you die, and it deserves being on that list. Rugged rocky coasts, serene islands with pleasant sheltered harbours and grassy hills, bird colonies, dolphins that, if so inclined, play with swimmers, it is all here. Further out is the South Pacific Ocean, with pleasantly choppy (if you are on a large cat with wave-piercing pontoons) waters. Also out at the edge between bay and ocean is an island with a hole through it, except this one the boat goes through. It’s not unlike riding the thread as it goes through the eye of the needle, except the currents here are strong, multi-directional, and not totally predictable. But the skippers of these boats seem to know what they are doing, and through we went, with not much room to spare on each side or overhead. From there it was back to the pier, with first a stop in a pleasant bay with camping facilities, a beach we could swim from, and a hill to climb for the view from the top. We chose the latter, and the slow but steady climb was worth it; from the top one can see the entire Bay of Islands layed out.

On arrival back at the pier we checked, and sure enough, our luggage was on the tour coach, and we shortly left for Auckland, reversing the route we had taken north. We arrived in Auckland near sunset, and again have to praise Fuller’s for their organization. The coach stopped at various points along the main road into the city, where there were waiting vans to take passengers and luggage to particular hotels. We were duly offloaded, our luggage transferred, and taken back to the Heritage Auckland for our last night. The only glitch was the overly helpful passenger who insisted on doing the driver’s work, taking our luggage off. It was only when we were checking in that I realized my rolling laptop case was not with us. However, the hotel was very helpful, calling the central bus station, who located the van by cell phone, and a few minutes later the case was delivered to us.

Ironically, firing up the laptop and checking e-mail got me an e-mail from our travel agency, sent from Toronto on February 6 (which would have been February 7 in New Zealand) informing us that we would have problems checking into our hotel on the 6th because of the Waitangi Treaty celebrations. No suggestions for alternatives, no recognition this was already too late. I had also checked with the hotel, and they insisted that they would have informed the person making the booking of the problem. So, nasty e-mail was sent,not that that will change anything.

Supper was at the pub underneath the hotel, and then bed. Tomorrow we pick up our rental car for the remainder of the trip.