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t's been a long, cold Maine winter; much different than the "winters" my wife, Kim, and I have had the last three years. In 2000,
we moved from Maine to Buenos Aires, Argentina to teach at the Lincoln American International School there. until moving back to Maine this winter, we spent the "winter months" enjoying the summers south of the equator. Normally, during our six week "winter" vacations in South America, we occupied ourselves backpacking the Paine Circuit in Chile, cycle touring in Patagonia, and enjoying the serenity of the Argentine Lakes District.
But, on our third "winter" vacation, we decided to venture outside of South America and head to New Zealand. I've never looked into how long a flight from Maine to New Zealand is, or how much it costs, but I believe we struck quite a bargain both in regards to money and time by making the journey from the Southern Hemisphere.
Wanganui River Trip
After finishing a cycle tour of South Island (as avid cyclists, we'd recommend Chile and Argentina's Lake Districts over what we saw of New Zealand), and our sea kayaking in Abel Tasman (an excellent spot), we took a ferry to the North Island and then a northbound night train to National Park Station, a tiny hamlet which serves Whanganui National Park. We spent the night in the waiting room, sleeping on the floor in our sleeping bags.
A local outfitter picked us up the next morning and introduced us to our watercraft. To our surprise, we were met with an Old Town Discovery, the exact replica of our first boat, right down to its red color.and then the outfitter dropped us off at Cherry Grove, which was nothing more than a rest area. It was raining lightly as we leisurely loaded our boat and pushed off into what would be the first of the 273 rapids we would encounter over the course of our 145 km (90 mile) journey. Most of the rapids were only class I and II, but they did keep the trip lively.
The first two days were through hilly farmland, terraced by the constant traffic of grazing sheep. We were outside of the park these two days, although the river is still maintained as a canoe trail, with campsites spaced every 20 km. We saw no humans these two days, with the exception of Hank - a sheep rancher turned fire extinguisher-maintenance man who was in the area making his rounds.
The second day was sunny, although breezy and cool. We had lunch at Ohura Falls, where th Ohura River enters the Whanganui and where the Maori had erected "Niu Poles", tall wooden poles with Maori carvings, symbols of protest against European domination, originally set in the ground 150 years ago.
The end of the second day brought us into the Whanganui National Park and out of the relative seclusion we had enjoyed for two days. The trade off for the lack of seclusion would be stimulating conversation – we met an Aussie, a German, and an Israeli - and a beautiful sandstone and mudstone gorge which we would padlle through the next three days.
The gorge was deep, its sides covered with a broadleaf forest of rata, rewarewa, rimu, tawa, kamahi, and kowhai. I couldn't tell one from the other, but it was some different than Webster Stream or the East Branch.
Even though it was the middle of the summer, the temperatures never got warm enough that we were tempted to swim. Mostly, we were comfortable with long sleeves and, occasionally, our windbreaker. The river was swift and the sun usually shone upon us. It was pleasant paddling, with exotic scenes around every bend.
Tamatea Cave was one of these attractions: it's a cave carved from the sandstone of about 25 feet in height. Another was the "Bridge to Nowhere", built sometime in the past hundred years to access a settlement that never materialized. A three-mile hike from the river brings one to the cement bridge spanning a fern-lined gorge, truly seeming to be in the middle of nowhere.
The biggest attraction to us, and one of endless speculation over the first four days, was the Tieke Marae, a Maori marae (a small village or settlement), open to canoeists as an overnight destination. The guidebook describesthe situation as such: Visitors to the marae will participate in a Powhiri (welcome)... You will be called onto the marae and shown where to sit. The Tieke people will speak first, usually followed by a song. One of the visitors will be expected to reply in any language, which may be followed with a song. It is traditional for visitors to lay a gift (koha) on the ground after speaking. After speeches, the visitors and the Tieke people join in the traditional form of greeting, by pressing noses (the hongi). All then proceed to the dining area for refreshments.
We were excited about the prospects of such an experience. I decided Kim would sing, as we didn't want to insult them. What song to sing though? And what kind of gift should we leave? We had some old food, but that wasn't appropriate. We tried to envision what the whole experience would be like, sharing our thoughts with the Australian man and German woman who frequently paddled with us and who were also looking forward to the encounter.
We would be nothing but disappointed, however. We pulled up on the shore. No one greeted us. We walked cautiqusly up the sandy trail towards the marae, hearing not a sound. When we arrived we found we were completely alone; There was a sign that said no one is around, make yourselves comfortable.
The only company we would have that night was the opossums crawling over the picnic shelter all night long despite me throwing an assortment of odd objects at them.
That was the last night of our trip. The final day was a short one, but one that contained the most exciting rapids since the first day. By 11:30 we had loaded the boats, and were on the long van ride back to our bikes and soon back to Argentina and our teaching jobs. We were glad to have canoed the Whanganui; and, glad that of all the adventures we had in New Zealand, that this was our last, asit was the most esciting, exotice and relaxing part of our vacation.
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