Taupo Bay - Day Fiftyone - April 3nd
I consulted my trusty map, the battered old AA road atlas that had been my companion on a number of exciting road trips. There was a circle on Taupo bay, possibly marked by Milan. Taupo bay was off the main road by about 20 minutes. I decide I'd better stock up before left civilisation behind. First port of call was a place called Kaio, decorated with protest signs demanding a cease to all barging and trucking of logs in the area. "A harbour for boaties, not barges" read one.
When I arrived at Taupo bay I was a little disappointed. The morning was overcast and the grey sea slopped lazily against the shore. In the distance, the other side of the bay, rugged cliffs of grey stone and wild trees rose to the sky.
It was time to have a coffee, get wound up and decide where to next. As I was sampling my fresh brew a mangy cat approached and started to climb round my legs. I decided to play with the camera and see what might come out. As you can see this is a pretty close shot.
Having sorted myself and formed a plan and direction I started off up the road. I hadn't gone far when I noticed a sign promoting houses for rental and some company name. It was a pretty basic looking set-up but I figured I might proposition them with web services. I rolled up, parked the van back a bit and knocked on the door. I carried out my standard spiel of being a business marketing and internet consultant and took it from there.
Pretty soon I was enjoying a cup of tea and some lunch, explaining them through the processes, costs and the like. We decided to take it further and I begun work with them. During my stay with Jan and John I got to do a number of exciting things that I would otherwise have missed out on.
One afternoon I took a sea kayak round the coast and explored the bay and rocks. It was great, gliding amongst the rocks and gazing down through the glassy water into the depths. The bottom was dotted with huge bolders and hunks of rock (all washed smooth) that had plunged from the cliffs over the years. Seaweed washed back and forth and I even glimpsed a fish flitting past. By floating silently passed with the waves I was able to get extremely close to a rock covered in turns, those dainty sea birds with black caps and red beaks.
On the second night we all went down the road to a neighbours place. Gary Sinclair (some relation I suppose), his name was and he offered up a fine meal, desert, coffee and brandy. Seemed like a nice guy though suffering from a brain tumour (in remission apparently) so a little clumsy and vague.
The next day I climbed up the hills and rocks to the south of the bay, determined to get to the top. Even though it was supposed Maori land (private at least) I pushed and clambered my way upward. At first going was good but then I took a wrong turn and found myself climbing sheer rock faces and looking down from dizzying heights. I managed to push my way through the brush and get beck onto a more smart approach. Up I went, the thick, springy grassy sucking at my legs like some sort of tropical powder snow. Eventually I came out on top and looked about me. The view was impressive, the land falling about in fractured beauty. Here and there the sea crept in to for a myriad of pristine bays. Coming down was more of a problem although I knew which was this time so it ended up being faster. It was a great climb and recommended to anyone looking for a bit more adventure than a stroll on the beach.
As evening approached and the work on the site neared its end, it was decided that I should go and catch a fish (or two) for dinner. We fired up the old tractor, hooked the boat trailer and headed off down the road, John on his ride on mower and me on the tractor. As well as renting out the 50 houses they also manage the repairs and lawns. So we launched the boat and I rowed off into the bay. I set up in the recommended location and promptly caught a number of small snapper. Letting the waves and wind do the work, I floated to the other side of the bay, my line trailing behind, but didn't hook a thing. On the far side I went round the rocks, dropping the line into deep holes. Finally I hooked something big. The rod started jerking and I wound it quickly in. There was a sizeable kawai. I later found out it was actually rather small.
When I arrived back at shore, my arms and shoulders aching from all the rowing, it was almost completely dark. I decided to hit the coast early and drag or manoeuvre the dingy along the beach to the trailer. What seemed like a good idea at the time quickly became a difficult undertaking. As I moved along the waters edge, dragging the boat in knee-deep water, waves washed in and almost pulled me over. After a time I decided to get out beyond the waves and continue rowing. Finally I arrived back at the boat ramp (really just a beach access point) and begun cleaning the two fish. When it came to getting the boat back on the trailer I was up for a challenge. I managed to back it up, unhook it and then push it into the shallows. By hooking the boat to the winch and lifting the trailer almost vertically, I managed to winch it up, eventually. Back on the tractor, I rumbled up the beach (no fear of getting stuck) and got onto the road. With dedicated hydraulic power steering, the old tractor wandered all over the show, with me constantly spinning the wheel one way then the other trying to keep a straight line in the near darkness.
