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fe all stood around on the beach at Titahi Bay looking knowingly out to sea (or at least pretending to). ‘Well if we can see the white caps from here, it must be a bit rough out there,’ said Pete. Wayne-mumbledin-agreement. ‘Out there’ was the bit of sea between the beach and Mana Island, our goal for the day. Unwilling to cancel the sea kayak trip prematurely after the postponement from the previous day, Wayne and Pete decided it was worth paddling towards the headland at the northern end of Titahi Bay and ‘poking our noses out’ to see if it was worth continuing. Pete reasoned that the tide, currently opposing the wind, was due to turn in an hour or two and what's more, the wind was forecast to drop. Chances were, the conditions would improve with the day. Although everyone had been in a kayak before, most of us were pretty short on experience, so the rules of the day were to stick close together. In the unlikely event that someone did take an impromptu swim, we’d have a better chance of helping them that way. Wayne and Pete also gave us a pep talk on what to do if it happened. (Full marks to Ferrida, for demonstrating in the most elegant way possible on dry land, how to climb back into a kayak while at sea!) Luckily Pete #2 showed up shortly before we set off. ‘Pete’s pretty experienced,’said Pete #1 with reassuring humility. So the party now
(Sea-kayak trip to Mana Island, April ’98)
there’. Thankfully my kayak seemed to know which way was up, so it was just a matter of pointing it in the right direction and keeping the arms rotating at an appropriate rate. The seas flattened for a while, and Mana Islandinched slowly-closer.As we-con- + tinued, we were soon battling forwards and up and down as each wave came to greet us. After about an hour of paddling, as the arms started to complain about the unaccustomed punishment, Mana Island did seem well within reach. Pete soon gave the sign to veer southwards across the face of the island. Those of us with less clues about what the hell we were doing, rafted up and let the tide take us in the right direction. Before long we were paddling towards the only real beach on the island and were all soon ashore. The outwards trip had taken about an hour and a half. At this point Pete #1 said, ‘Hmm, if I’d known the swell was going to be quite that big, I don’t think we’d have come out.’ Mark added, ‘it was outside my comfortzone.’ Sometimes it pays to be blissfully ignorant, I thought! After a lazy lunch, most of us decided to take the walk around the island, about an hour’s round trip. As we headed up to the plateau-like area covering most of the island, we were able to see the results of DOC’s revegetation program. Given the bleakness of Mana Island, every inch of progress appears to be hard won. Nevertheless, the lushness of the
Nick Wood As we headed along the windswept seaward side of the island, we came across a stonily silent colony of gannets perched on a cliff. ‘Wanna be’ gannets that is. All 26 are actually concrete sculptures planted by DOC, complete with_realistic looking synthetic guano. The aim is to encourage their feathered cousins to touch down and presumably multiply. Unfortunately, the average gannet appears to have been less than impressed. DOC has provided a notebook in which passersby are encouraged to note any non-concrete gannet sightings. Apart from one early sighting, in which a real gannet was observed to be offering an artificial one a share of its dinner, no further sightings were reported. As someone suggested, your average stone gannet is probably not much fun to hang out with.
As predicted, the sea was looking somewhat calmer as we headed back to the mainland (note for readers from the South Island, no we weren’t crossing Cook Strait). Our strategy was similar to that on our outward journey. We headed northeast-ish, intending to get the wind at our backs as we then veered southeast into Titahi Bay. That is, most of us did. Jeanine decided this was far too long a route and took the quicker path straight across. Nothing like the direct approach. Although the trip back was shorter and the swell was smaller, I have to admit being glad to get into the relative calm of Titahi Bay. As we headed across, I found looked a bit more balanced in its ability. After a few minutes re-acquainting ourselves with the joys of using paddles instead of legs to get around, we ‘poked our noses out’ of the bay. Everyone seemed OK so we headed off into the wind aiming slightly north of the northern tip of Mana Island. Sure enough, it was ‘a bit rough out vegetation creeping up the sheltered valleys on the eastern side as compared to the barrenness of the surrounding grass land is encouraging. Let’s hope the project is a success. I believe the Club often provides some volunteer labour to the program at tree planting time. It looks like a good cause. Certainly, the number of pukeko boldly racing about the place is a really good sign.
myself occasionally side on to the waves and so had the odd anxious moment. However, the return journey was only about an hour, and so by 4:30 everyone was safely ashore. Thanks to Wayne and Pete #1 (who also hired us our kayaks) for a great and memorable day. My fellow paddlers were Damien, Ferrida, Jeanine, John, Mark, Pete #2, Richard and Steve.
WI&MC May 1998
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