Hamilton to Wellington

25-31 Jan, 01-02 Feb 2007

After a reasonably short drive we arrive in the shire…this region is not far from, and very similar in topography to, the area used by Peter Jackson in the Rings trilogy for Hobbiton. (Which was filmed exclusively in New Zealand. In a country of just over 4 million people the Rings trilogy has become a badge of honor. If someone did not directly work in the production, they are close mates with someone who did.) It is an area of small hobby farms, a few cattle, a few sheep, some maize, a few goats, or even bees. The properties cover decent lot sizes. They are referred to as “Lifestyle” properties: Not big enough for commercial operations, but just big enough to only lose a little money on agricultural enterprises.

Tina and Chris live outside the city of Hamilton and have 70 acres (about 23 hectares…). Part is leased for cattle and sheep, and Chris regularly experiments with different farm ideas. Currently he is playing with breeding Koi carp. The things we do to keep out of trouble… These are friends of Kimberly’s cousin Marjie. They have spent some time in the states, living and working in PA. They were kind enough to let us use their space (and eat their food and drink their drink). Kiwis are really conscientious about their drink. If they are conscious, they will usually have a drink… We also joined them for a nice dinner out with some of their friends. About 10:00 someone noticed the comet outside. The restaurant practically cleared, everyone out to the parking lot to stare at the comet McNaught. Pretty neat actually.

Saturday is a climbing day. First we joined Tina and her sister Robin at a local Saturday Market for a little local flavor (including lamb kebobs form a food stall- yum!). Then off to Wharapapa South (Farrah-pah-pah). We stopped in Boyce’s, the local Rock Shop, to get the skinny. We could pay for entry onto the developed private land crags, or drive around the corner and across a pasture to the free (currently) access crags. Both are the same stone (and, interestingly enough, the same owners…). We chose free… buying the guide pamphlet for $7 NZ rather than an actual guide for $150 NZ.

The rock is a type of volcanic pumice called ignimbrite. Not as light as pumice, with bigger air pockets. Very grippy with some sharper edges. It was formed when a pyroclastic flow, moving at a few hundred kilometers per hour, inundated this region in the not too distant past (geologically speaking that is…) The trapped gasses expanded, but never escaped. Kind of like the air pockets in a muffin. There were a few other climbers on the rock, including a Tennessee-Kiwi. He was originally from Nashville and has lived here for 7 years. Needless to say he had a very unique accent… unintelligible in two dialects… It got pretty hot by mid-afternoon. Not wanting to continue flirting with the hole in the ozone (NZ has the highest per capita skin cancer rate in the world…) we headed back to Hamilton for cocktails and BBQ.

Sunday we bid farewell to our hosts. We realized with all we still want to see and do on the South Island it was time to move a bit more quickly through the southern half of the North Island. A mad dash to the geothermal playground of Rotorua, the Kiwi answer to Yellowstone. We find a hostel called “Funky Green Voyager”. Very funny owner, a long term traveler himself. He and his wife will take off for a year at a time, leasing the hostel while they are gone. Great kitchen. Rotorua is known for its prevailing sulfur atmosphere. Makes it much easier to fart in public. The next morning we stop off at one of the many thermal feature parks. Geysers, mudpots, sulfur caves, champagne lakes, sinter terraces (silica mineral formations from the water runoff), etc. A good way to stretch the legs before the drive to Lake Taupo.

Taupo was formed when a volcano exploded about 26,500 years ago. This little bang resulted in a release of 800 cubic kilometers of ash (Krakatoa released 8 cubic k, Mt St Helens released about 3…). There is a section of beach that still has 150º F spring. You dig a little hole that fills with really hot water, then trench to the lake to allow some waves to add cooler water. At some point you suck it up and lie down. Hot stuff…

We stayed at a hostel geared towards the younger backpacker… It came with its own bar, and entertaining bar sculptures, as well as the biggest, fattest living cat we have ever seen. It was a large furry pillow. Our original plan was to rent a small catamaran or a couple of kayaks, however a solid breeze was forming whitecaps and breakers on the lake. We decided to head to wine country in Hawks Bay.

We hit some wineries that had been set up on an old gravel riverbed. Tectonic activity in the late sixties diverted a river, leaving these silted gravels exposed. Add vines, and poof! Instant vineyards. Almost a dozen along this one little stretch. The North Island was good on whites, thin on reds. Here, the long sunny dry day, cool nights seems to let the reds really pop. Our absolute favorite was a pinotage from a winery called TeAwa, which excitingly enough is actually available in the states. Of course we spent the equivalent of a nights lodging for a few bottles, but we can sleep in the car for something this amazing…

Our little caravan “room” had no heat, and we had no duvet. It was bloody cold. This icing on the cake was the less than lukewarm shower in the morning. It had been our first “second choice” lodging, and we paid the penalty. There are risks to no-itinerary, no planning travel. (We also didn’t know Eric Clapton was playing nearby, which helped occupy normally available beds…)
We did however manage to have a great pub meal…

We continue to be amazed at the total lack of bodies. Nothing is crowded, roads are really not busy, and the only heavy traffic has been in the immediate area around Auckland. Even in the resort towns, the ones solely devoted to travelers, are not full, even during the last few weeks and weekends of summer. Inconceivable to someone raised in the Catskills. One does have to remember the entire country has fewer people than the southern half of the island of Manhattan…

Wellington: The country’s capitol, on the southernmost tip of the North Island. The Maori consider it the mouth of the fish that forms the North Island (Remember Maui caught the big one? Cape Reinga is the tail…) Home to culture, arts, gardens, and pubs. We stayed in Mana, a suburb 15 minutes north of the city itself. The Stillwater Lodge was just taken over by new owners, Veronica and Rex. We have diamond lanes… Part time, and they are called T2 (Transit lanes, 2 occupants) Rush hour actually is about an hour. We opted to take the train into the city, as it was the weekend of the Sevens. 34,000 people descend upon Wellington for a short-manned team rugby event. It’s called sevens: Seven-man teams, vs. fourteen in a normal turn out, from all over the world. Even the US is represented. The entire city shuts down during lunchtime for a parade of the teams. All teams are on small flatbed lorries, preceded by local representations of national icons. Argentina was led by a Samba troupe (Al la Fremont Freak fest…), England had an Austin Powers look alike, New Zealand had a group of Maori in traditional garb, as did the Fijians, Samoans, and Kenyans. The Wellington Pipe Band preceded the Scotland team. We, meaning the US of A, had the King and the Colonel. Elvis and Sanders… Apparently Kiwis have an iconic connection between fried chicken, sequins, sunglasses, peanut butter and banana sandwiches, and the States… At least it wasn’t Ronald MacDonald and the drug-addled stripper from Texas… or Paris Hilton…

The Kiwi equivalent of the Smithsonian is Te Papa. This is by far the most incredible, encompassing, dynamic museum facility we have ever encountered. Opened in 1998, it is free to all visitors, Kiwi or otherwise. It is six stories of a geologic, indigenous, European, political, and cultural mélange. It brings together all aspects of the spiritual, tangible, and cultural identity of the nation both ancient and modern. It was interactive, absorbing, and inspired. Indoor exhibits, outdoor presentations, dynamic touch screen historical participations, overall a sparkling jewel for a capitol city to present. (Can you tell we were really impressed with this place?) We spent only four hours, it could easily allow for two days or more.

Between the time we entered and the time we left the weather turned to absolute shit. Windy Welly is the common name… Pissing Down Rain was today’s proper noun. We were hoping to find an Asian restaurant called “Poon”, whose tagline is “We Luv U long Time”, however we opted for a pub called “The Dog & Bone”. The local paper had a tag line referring to Seattle:

After a couple of brews we hopped the express train back to Mana, and made it an early evening. We would be leaving around 6:30am (11:00am July 31, 2009 PST) to queue up for the ferry to the South Island.

More Photos: North Island Pt 1, North Island Pt 2 (Parents- still click the underlined words...)

North to Cape Reinga, South to Waikato

23-25 January 2007

The driving is slowly becoming second nature. Kimberly is not ready to put her seat back to nap yet, however she will close her eyes… She figures she’ll be ready to try behind the wheel on the South Island. (80% of the human population is on the North Island). We side tripped to Waitanga for some historical perspective. This is where the Treaty was signed between the British and the assorted tribes of the Maori in the mid 1800’s. Someone noticed the English version was slightly different than the Maori version… Oops… The differences are primarily about sovereignty, who is charge of what and who. This worked out fine when there were 5,000 British and 50,000 Maori. However, the fun really began as more and more settlers arrived.

I’ll summarize the entertaining background parts: The whalers, seal hunters, and explorers had been trading guns to the Maori for decades. The Maori, a fairly warlike people, became very good with guns. (Or I should say the ones who became good were the Maori who were left…) Tribal feuds and battles had been the accepted form of land and wife swapping for centuries. There was no land “ownership” amongst the Maori. If you fought, bled, and won, that bit of land was yours until someone beat you bad enough to get you off of it. There was no one king, or one tribe. Some were stronger, some weaker, all played by the same rules: The best at fighting made the rules, don’t desecrate holy ground, honor your ancestors.

The British arrived and “purchased” land with guns and other trading goods. The Maori had no language, or paradigm, for land ownership. They figured they would let the British hang out until they were tired of them as neighbors. The trade goods were more of a protection payment rather than a land purchase. (Oh, no courts or written laws either…)

After a few really good wars the British realized the Maori were good at what they did, which was fight. Eventually the superior numbers of the British finally won out. By that time a generation of Maori had begun to understand what the British were talking about when discussing land purchase. The Maori were not a 20 beads and good song for this big tract of land people. They had a good thing, and they new it. Land division and areas that could be settled by the British were “clearly” laid out. The British continued to push boundaries over the next few decades. In the 1980’s the Maori developed some political clout and started to regain some of the lands the felt had been misappropriated by using the Treaty as a reference. The Maori have maintained a cultural identity and presence throughout the country. It is a strong one at that.

We continued north, again wondering at a main transport corridor being two lanes. Twisty, bendy, single-lane bridge, up and down two lanes. JD misses his motorcycle. A lot. The speed limits outside of villages are posted 100kph. Then there will be a sign with a 100 in the middle of a bulls eye and say “It’s not a target- drive to conditions”. Oh to have a car with any handling ability whatsoever… Of course it’s a target!

We saw a young couple with packs hitching. Feeling benevolent we stopped. Martin and Isabelle where from Germany, finishing up a six month trip with a month on the North Island. They were taking some time after graduating college to visit friends on the South Island. They too were working towards Cape Reinga 200 kilometers further north. They called the same hostel and booked as well. We had to hunt for almost 125 k to find a TipTop store… KK tried the Hokey Pokey. It’s a vanilla ice cream with bits of Hokey Pokey candy, a puffed honey-nougat type of confection mixed in. It was good enough that she would have it again.

The access to the next hostel at Henderson Bay (about 60 k short of the far north) was by 3.3 miles of not-recently graded gravel. We are at the end of things out here. The gravel road had a loose “hump”, regularly flattened by the exhaust pipe and transmission housing of our loaded little beastie (four people plus all the gear- poor engine gerbil was having a long long day…). The hostel was great. Small, with a few other guests, including an older Canadian couple doing the same kind of trip as us. They were living in Vancouver, but were from Calgary/Banff. Their motor home was stored in Portland of all places.

A short walk from the hostel brought you to a bluff trail along the Pacific. The trail dropped you onto Henderson Bay, another one of those incredible soft sand beaches a few k long with nobody on it. Henderson Bay is “famous” for two things- a migratory colony of Godwits and a tsunami that washed over it 46,000 years ago.

Godwits are a wading bird that spend half the year in Alaska, and fly here to breed. They fly non-stop, as they are not a floating bird. It takes them 15 days to make the trip. They actually sleep on the fly. Every few hours the lead birds in the flock shift to the back, not unlike bicycle racers, to share the work of the lead.

The tsunami is important because it buried a kauri (Cow-ree) forest much farther south. Farmers started pulling up bits of fresh wood when drilling new wells for cattle and sheep watering stations. Geologists found the buried wood over a large area, all dated from the same time, 46k years ago. They were buried under seabed sludge. This sludge matched the mineral profile of an underwater seamount a few dozen miles north. Apparently this underwater seamount had a caldera, which collapsed and sent a wall of water that was focused by an undersea channel right through Henderson bay and inland. They now harvest the crystallized “gum” from this buried forest and make tourist trinkets (Mt St Helens ash figurine anyone?)

The German students caught a ride before we were ready to leave. Off to Cape Reinga. This northernmost point is a spiritual place for the Maori. They believe the spirits of the dead leap off this point to begin their trip to the next world. It is also the “tail” of the great fish the God Maui (Yes, the same one as Hawaii) pulled from the ocean to create the North Island of New Zealand.

More historical side note: descendants of a seafaring race from southern Taiwan people all Polynesia, Hawaii, and New Zealand. The Maori arrived here around 1000-1200 ad, the Hawaiians arrived in Hawaii around 300 ad. The language and pronunciation are close enough to hear and see the resemblance.

The sealed (paved) road ends 20 k before the cape. Haul ass gravel. Tour buses, a lot of tour buses, make this trip everyday. We managed to be ahead of the buses. Brilliant sunshine, warm breezes, this was going to be excellent. Being able to stand at a point and watch two great bodies of water (the Pacific and the Tasman Sea) meet… Lots of memory in the camera, polarizing filter in place to help with sun glare…One kilometer short of the cape began the Fog. A thick, hanging pea soup Fog. We could hear the ocean a few hundred feet below. A couple of snaps of the lighthouse and off we go, just as the train of tour buses began to arrive. Now we get to visit a tiny beach. A few kilometers back down the gravel we head towards Te Paki stream, and the giant dunes. Really giant dunes. Bigger than Oregon dunes. Pretty much Sahara size dunes. A stream runs along the edge of the dune field. Four-wheel drive can use this as a road. It is flat. It also has quicksand. Our rental agreement specifically mentions four roads in the whole country we are absolutely forbidden to use. This is the top one… I don’t push my luck. After parking we shed shoes and walk 3.5 kilometers (about 2.2 miles) through the 100-degree water barefoot. It’s not even ankle deep in most places. We stop to watch the dune-surfers. There are bogey boards for hire. You hike up any of the massive dunes, and rocket down. Hot sweaty fun… We continue on to the beach. It is a small quiet beach, about 50 yards wide and 90 miles long. Yep, 90 miles from end to end. Powder like sand, uninterrupted except for this creek at the north end. No one is visible in a range of site. The Tasman Sea is a touch warmer then the Pacific was on the other side. Rips are prevalent here, so we didn’t splash about. We were afraid of the mighty under toad.

On the way back we took time to admire the diversity of giant dunes to our left, and verdant lush jungle on the right. It is a land of contrasts to be sure.

We do a short marathon drive, about 280 k, to arrive at our nights lodging. A place called Treehouse Backpackers. A pair of old Aussie hippies has reclaimed a cattle and sheep ranch. They are practicing “permaculture”, using mostly native and some non-invasive non-native trees and plants to produce a self-sustaining habitat. A few sheep, chickens and ducks wander about. We got to sleep in the bus. A small school bus that has been converted into a bedroom. The outside is partridge familyesque. A small deck with table and chairs is outside. There were a few mozzies so KK had covered herself with our eucalyptus based Miessence bug repellent. We were having some wine when the sheep wandered by. JD wandered in to get a few snaps and the sheep didn’t give him a second thought (not that sheep can actually have a first thought…) KK wanted a picture of JD and the best angle was in the pasture. A ewe lifted her head and bleated the second KK was over the fence. She (the ewe) trotted over at lightning speed (for a sheep) and started to lick KK’s ankles… Needless to say, KK, all country girl at heart, daughter of a butcher, FREAKED OUT! The ewe began chasing Kimberly all around the pasture. If she stopped, the ewe would butt her in the hip, and try to lick her ankles. JD was trying to not pee himself or blow wine out of his nose. His pants did stay dry, but his sinuses did get a short flush… Luckily it was a shank wine, tasty but cheap (Aussie: Wolf Blass, Eagle Hawk Estate 2004 Shiraz-Merlot-Cab blend, yummy)

The following day we hopped a small 36-car ferry to catch the road to the Great Kauri Forest. This is the only stand of “old growth” kauri left in the country. The oldest tree is about 2000 years. Kauri were cleared for farming, and harvested for spars and masts. They are a hardwood that grows very straight and very tall. The tallest can reach 50 metres (about 150 feet) and over 16 metres around. We hiked in to see Tane Mahuta (“God of the Forest”), as well as Te Matua Ngahere (“Father of the Forest”) and the Four Sisters (a tight stand of Kauri). You can take the girl out of Seattle…KK had to have a cup of coffee from the food van in the parking area for her walk… We walked around the bend and saw Te Mahuta through an opening in the bush. It was a deeply moving sight. Visceral. KK actually had a tear. The tree radiated age and majesty. As we wandered the trails the diversity of a kauri forest was evident. Giant ferns, pines, and what JD considers a “bridge” evergreen, a pine tree that looks like a big pine fern, as well as kauris of varying ages.

Our journey continued down a major secondary road chockfull of twisties. You could easily travel 30 road miles and cover less than 10 miles straight line. Again, really missing the motorcycle. We figure KK would either be catatonic or stuck in permanent rictus on the bike… Today we are passing back through Auckland on our way south. Distances on paper still are not translating well to the real world. On paper it was going to be another kind-of-long day, 280-300 k, 4 hours or so. Reality was 400k and 7-8 hours. Oy! City traffic is city traffic no matter what the country. We drive on the outskirt roads (any road outside of 30k from Auckland) and other cars hardly exist. You can travel 15-20 minutes on major roads and not see another vehicle at all. Once you enter the orbit of Auckland, all bets are off. Long day. Of course, unbeknownst to us, it is the last big holiday weekend of summer… Auckland Day. Everyone and their mother (literally) are heading out of town. We are with the ones getting the day early head start. No issues with left side driving though. It’s all good. Tomorrow we only need to drive an hour or so, theoretically. Kimberly’s cousin Marjie hooked us up with some friends outside of Hamilton. We’ll be dropping in on Tina & Chris, hopefully by late morning.

Tonight we are in a small (read: REALLY SMALL) hamlet on the coast called Port Waikato. It is supposedly a surfer’s paradise. We seem to miss both the surfer’s and the paradise part… The beach is good despite this. Fine, black sand, well enjoyed by the local two and four wheel motorized conveyance crowd. (Again, missing a motorcycle…) We enjoy a glass of red while wandering up the beach, a few sprinkles interrupting the sunset. Kimberly notices a bright blue lump on the beach, about the size of a large biscuit. She starts to poke at it with a stick and wonders aloud what it might be… JD wanders over and with little preamble points out it is a bluey. A bluey is a Portuguese Man-O-War, a relative of sorts to the jellyfish. It has some very irritating stinging parts, and can leave a nasty welt (following a day or two of burning misery…) Urine is a folk remidy, the nitrogen in urea is supposed to neutralize the toxin. JD unselfishly offered to provide therapy for any potentially exposed skin, however Kimberly was certain she didn’t actually touch the bluey…

21-22 Diving Poor Knights

21-22 January 2007

Leaving Auckland on a Sunday was a great plan. Little traffic, daylight, and our hosteller gave directions that required only one turn, and no lane changes. We were on the Route 1 Motorway North. A multi-lane highway. Speed limit 100 kph (64mph or so…) strictly enforced. Doesn’t matter, the two gerbils and squirrel that power our little rental beastie can only go 110kph downhill with a tailwind… No speeding tickets for us in Kiwi country. (Kiwi, by the way, was a term started by Aussie soldiers during WW1. Probably initially derisive, but the New Zealanders attached to it, and consider it a proud moniker. Also, it’s the bird, not the fruit…)

We are heading north 160 kilometers (110 miles more or less) to the town of Whangarie (Fang-a-ray). About 30 kilometers out of Auckland the motorway becomes one lane each way… through towns and roundabouts. Mind you, the speed limit often stays 100kph until just before these traffic barriers. The road follows the lay of the land.

The land is lumpy… and twisty… and beautiful. Verdant just scratches the surface. The climate is considered sub-tropical. What this means is this: giant ferns surrounded by buttercups, palm trees are next to pine trees, grasses, shrubbery, giant kauri trees tower over cows and sheep, an explosion of flowering plants tall and short, areas of dry scrub bordered by dense forest. Microclimates change every few kilometers, and the flora changes as well. Even for this short distance we have Eastern Washington, Western Washington, British Columbia, Florida, Hawaii, and California all rolled into one.

JD has gotten the hang of the opposite controls. Traffic circles also are less intimidating. We found our way to our abode of the next two nights. Whangarie Holiday Park and Backpackers. Holiday parks are small to medium sized properties that have a few connected cabins, some tent spaces, and a couple of spaces to park campervans. Communal kitchen, central showers and lavatories, and indoor common areas with a small library, TV, and coin-operated email also seem to be standard.) All of the North Island is volcanic in nature. There are over 160,000 kilometers of volcanic rock stone-walls threaded throughout this region. They run along the road, across the fields, and sometimes are just standing all by themselves. Not too different than Scotland and the NE U.S., “gotta do something with the rocks…lets stack ‘em and make walls!”

We decided to check the dive shop out in person. It was about 20 minutes down the road in Tutukaka (yep, just like it’s spelled…) Along the way there were pee-a-boo views of the ocean. The dive shop measured up and we made our reservations for the next morning. We decided to take some side roads and check out the beaches we had viewed from above. It is hard to imagine the total lack of bodies… These beach parks were incredible, soft sand, blue-green water, minimal surge, stunning views, easy access, and it was a Sunday during summer break. The busiest beach had maybe a dozen people and a couple of blokart riders (blokarts are the sail driven go carts.) Most were just plain empty. Every small hamlet and town has at least one ice cream place serving a NZ ice cream called TipTop. It can be in an abundance of flavors, and it is a “premium” density. Costs about a $1 a scoop. KK & I both had boysenberry swirl. There is a flavor called “Hokey Pokey” which even the lady scooping didn’t know what it was. We haven’t tried it yet, more research is needed…

We arrived at the dive shop at 8:00am (JD has found the time, currency, and distance can be easily converted in your head by using the following formula: T or $=(((x/n3*c)/g2)r)/[Dd-yf/k8]c/t)-3. n=the age of your car, g is the gravitational constant, c is the speed of light, D is a yet to be discovered universal constant, and the other variables include latitude, longitude, inclination of Mercury and the theoretical month…) Anyway- it was yesterday 11:00am back in Seattle…

Kimberly got to put on her first heavy wet suit. A 7mm farmer john plus a 7mm hooded jacket and neoprene booties. The water has warmed up to a balmy 68 degrees. Not Midwest quarry or Puget Sound diving (both around 42 degrees) but close enough. The dive crew was excited because just a couple of weeks ago it was cold- low 60’s. The dive and boat crews were great. Friendly, knowledgeable, interactive. The Skipper, a younger Kiwi, gave quality dive prep with god local history and site knowledge. An hour here, then lunch and a short cruise, and an hour or so at the next site. We chose to dive with one of the guides for the first dive, and do our own thing the second.

Captain Cook had named the Poor Knights during a coastal trip in the mid-1800’s. No one is sure why he chose the name. Maybe he was running out of things after naming countless islands, shoals, bays, headlands, harbours, and who knows what else. (Here we are passing Edith’s Head, named for the scullery maid of the Earl of Gisbourne. The Earl had known Cook’s third cousin in prep school…)

I digress… The area has been a land sanctuary almost as long as Europeans have been around the country. It has been a protected ocean sanctuary since the late eighties. No hunting, fishing, or even setting foot on the islands. They are the only landmass that has not been infested with non-indigenous mammals. No rats, stoats, goats, sheep, etc. There are local flora and fauna found literally nowhere else on earth. A giant grasshopper the size of a fist, a giant 8-10 centipede that hunts lizards and small birds, and a lizard species that is older than sharks and crocodiles are but a few of the local denizens.

The sea life on the other hand all came from somewhere else. In Disney’s Nemo the EAC (Eastern Australia Current) was used by surfing turtles and Nemo’s dad. He exited at Sydney, however if your stay (or are stuck in...) the current it runs by a few other small atolls and then deposits everything at Poor Knights. Kelps and tropicals mix here. The hardier tropicals get BIG. Huge angels rule sections of rock to guard egg masses, and large schools of really big rainbow wrasses follow divers around, I assume just to see what happens. (We had a 6-inch rainbow wrasse in our tank, it was considered medium to large. These wrasses are all a foot and a half or so…)

The heavy suits did tweak our buoyancy control (the ability to float at one depth rather than float up or sink down) a bit. We figured it out though. Water was clear, minimal surge, no current, and lots of little critters in the nooks and crannies. Back on the boat you’re immediately offered a hot beverage (tea, cocoa, coffee) and a hot water rinse. The islands are the surviving lava plugs of an old volcano. Think Devils Tower (Wyoming, Close Encounters of the Third Kind) in the ocean. Weathering has set it up to be honeycombed like a big Swiss cheese. There are caves and pass-throughs all around. Many are large enough for boats. We entered one and had a little echo demonstration that was pretty superb. The Skipper tried to get the Austrians on board to yodel. They needed beer first…and it was a dry ship. So we all hooted and whistled for a bit.

Our second dive was through one of the aforementioned pass throughs. Called Blue Mau Mau arch, it has a school of Blue Mau Mau living inside… This dive was a bit chillier as it faced the southern pacific directly (pretty much all the way to Antarctica…) and there was a tad more current. All good fun though.

One of the divers was a South African in country to visit his brother. We had quite the information exchange about chiropractic, and some light politics. One of the Germans on board had been around the western states on a six week driving trip a short while ago. He gushed about our road system. He had driven close to 12,000 kilometers in 6 weeks, and he said there was no other country in which you could do that type of mileage in that short a time. (He wasn’t always on interstates either…)

On the way back to the marina a school of dolphins (the Flipper kind, not spotted or spinners) caught our attention. The Skipper motored with them for a bit as they surfed the wake and had a general dolphin good time.

A good day of sun & fun. Some wine, cheese and fruit appetizer and spicy chicken stir-fry for dinner. Afterwards we prepare for tomorrows trip to the northernmost point of New Zealand- Cape Reinga and 90-mile beach.

18-21 January- Auckland

18-20 January 2007

Having no clue as to the date and time we were both awake by six am. (9 am yesterday in Hawaii, 11am yesterday in Seattle, {*!!~~0%} on the planet Zork…) Some instant coffee and a bit of Aussie TV morning show (Sydney’s answer to Regis and Kathy Lee). They were interviewing an author who just published a book on “Psychopaths in the workplace”, and how to identify and work with the psycho in the cubicle next to yours… This was followed by a Pink Floyd sampled video on how to be more environmentally aware (www.cooltheglobe.com to see it… its really quite well done). We were on the airport shuttle with two Aussie families and their young ones. A rental car in front of us turned into oncoming traffic, and wouldn’t move over. ALL of us immediately commented, “Must be Americans”… I apologized for the cluelessness of our apparent countryman, and we could see his wife melting his ears. It was all good fun. At the airport the shuttle driver apologized to us for any potential insult to our national image. We laughed and told him they could have been Canadian…

The Sydney airport is a tribute to form, function, and convenience. Part mall, part food court, and intelligently designed. For breakfast we opted for Japanese (Our choices included pretty much every ethnic food available, as well as McD’s and Krispy Kreme…) KK had a shrimp-veggie tempura (a birds nest with prawn) and I had a sushi bento. Best airport food we’ve ever seen or tasted.

Security did not care about our shoes or water bottles, or us for that matter. The short lines move quickly and all the personnel were friendly and polite. Interestingly enough we could be overweight on our checked baggage, but our carry on could be no more than 7 Kilos (about 15½ pounds). JD’s computer and camera equipment alone weigh about 14 pounds combined. His bag before purging weighed almost 14 Kilos. We were able to stuff just about everything non-delicate into Kimberly’s carry-on and check it.

Our in flight movie was The Queen, and we had Steak & Cheese Pie for the meal… Time to get in touch with our inner Brits.

Customs in New Zealand was even more laid back than Australia. Both countries are very concerned with biologicals: Wood, plants, nuts, and seeds, even soil on shoes. If you have any of the former and do not declare it for inspection, HUGE fines are levied immediately, items are confiscated, and your day is not any brighter. We declared our Mac nuts, chocolate and trail mix as a matter of course. It was also always inspected. We always got to keep it. Otherwise off we went.

We hired our car from EZY, a “rent an older car” agency. It’s a right-hand drive 2000 Toyota Corolla with 110,000 kilometers on it (about 70,000 miles). It’s clean, right-hand drive, efficient, right-hand drive, with a good-sized boot (trunk for you Yank heathens…) for our packs. ALL of the countries we plan on visiting are English drive. It is no longer the wrong side of the road; it is the correct side of the road. I will forget this at my peril… The driver’s compartment is not too off; the shift lever (auto, thank goodness) is under my left hand. No problem, easy to adapt. The hardest thing to drill is the turn signal lever is on the right side of the steering column. Oy- windshield wipers for left turn, wash for lane change… I don’t think the other drivers can guess my intentions when I clean the windshield…

A reasonably uneventful trip from the airport brought us to our hostel. It is in Parnell, a smaller sub-district of Auckland City. It is located on a small dead-end side street that seems to be a bit of a hostel row. Turns out that New Zealand really embraces the backpacking community. Hostels, backpacker buses, backpacking service groups, big huge hostels, little niche hostels, and a variety of discount clubs for backpackers as well.

We scored a great parking space just in front of the hostel. In tribute to Frank Costanza (Seinfeld) we refused to use the car because we didn’t want to lose the good space… This meant we walked. A lot. That first night we wandered to get the layout of the area. Auckland is similar to Seattle and San Francisco in topography. Lots of up and down.We did manage to find a nice Irish pub- The Bog, with live music. A surreal moment: Two Americans in a pub in New Zealand, watching Wales kick the crap out of Italy on the Rugby Channel, with a table of Japanese tourists behind us, to a two-man Irish band singing and playing a mix of jigs and dirges, while trying to figure out what day it really is…

The first morning it was overcast and cool. Somehow we both forgot to pack sunblock for our day trip. The sky cleared, and it got very warm (a humid 78 or so). Kimberly brought up the hole in the ozone. JD was sure that it was only over the Antarctic. Make a note: He was actually incorrect…. The hole sits right over NZ. They post the daily UV index in the local papers. It was at the top of the scale. We ended up with a bit more color than planned. We do have lots of aloe. We also have Bullfrog- the sunblock used by the tri-athletes during Ironman (on the Big Island…) It is heavy duty (provided you actually put it on…). Only comes off with soap. SPF 5000. Like wearing an aluminum blanket. Anyway- we tramped all around downtown Auckland, at least 8 miles worth. It is a city that successfully combines British propriety with a Bohemian edge.

Interesting food note: If it is edible, they put it in a pie. Quick foodstuffs come in pie format. All things scary, and yummy, come in puff pastry. JD had a Thai chicken curry pie for breakfast take-away (Have we mentioned its not take-out, or to-go, its take-away), while Kimberly had egg & bacon pie. We just think of it as an edible bowl.

Being antipodal throws the natural sense of direction off. No matter what the season in the northern hemisphere the sun is always southerly. In the morning your shadow moves west to north, afternoon north to east. Just one of many subtle cues combined to know which way you are moving. JD, normally very aware of his direction of travel, can’t seem to get his inner compass calibrated. We are just learning someplace new anyway, so a few extra miles here and there are just good exercise. Zoolander can’t turn left, JD can’t orient by south. The joy brought to Kimberly by JD getting lost was virtually immeasurable.

Auckland is another city with a space phallus. We are now counting how many we have been to: Seattle, Vegas, Vancouver (BC), that other Canadian city invaded in the South Park movie, and Auckland so far. Kuala Lumpur probably won’t count, as those towers are an actual building. New Zealand, being a country of self-responsibility and minimal litigation, actually has a company that offers bungee jumping from the Sky Tower. There’s a bloke who has done this over 80 times… (You can also bungee from the Harbour Bridge, and abseil -forward facing rappel; a fast run straight down- on one of the skyscrapers)

Burnt and exhausted, we retired to our humble lodgings for the evening.

We think it’s Saturday. Huge line at the ferry for the nearby get-away island, yep, it’s Saturday. Having scarfed some breakfast take-away we headed off to the tourist destination of Waiheke (Why-Hee-Kee). Home to beaches, shops, and wineries. Touted as a walking island (There are cars and roads however), we studied maps and figured we could pull off a reasonable, smallish self-tour of part of the island. We were slathered with Bullfrog. No more UV for us! Not until the base sets in at least… There is topography. There was a bit more vertical than we expected, but not unreasonable. Wonderfully well-marked “tramping” trails and roads are prevalent throughout the island. (Tramping is hiking or Kimberly’s memories of undergrad. Could be day trips, or long weekends. Tramping trails abound throughout the country, and are a very common form of recreation.)

We tramped our way to a fabulous winery, Mudbrick, on top of a slope overlooking the bay with Auckland in the distance. An accountant decided one day in 1992 he wanted to be a vintner. He brought some cuttings in form the US and planted them at his holiday home on the island. A few years later he was producing some amazing whites. His kids tend to travel by horseback around the island. Today they had one hitched to a support for one of the vine trellises. Did you know the space between wine grape rows is exactly the length of a horse? Did you also know a horse likes a good butt scratching almost as much as Kimberly? We watched a very happy pony sliding his ass back and forth across a support pole while munching a vine of fresh Cabernet grapes. Horse heaven? We can only assume… After a vertical tasting we tramped off to the next winery on our map. Unfortunately it was closed for remodeling. Bummer that. Leg fatigue was setting in. We had a quick bite in town and headed the 4 kilometers back to the ferry, not looking forward to the few uphill kilometers to the hostel.

A bottle of wine before bed, bemoaning our aching calves, and we face driving on the opposite side of the road tomorrow… Heading north to dive Poor Knights, a Jacques Cousteau top-ten dive site.

17 January 2007, Layover in Sydney

16? 17? –January 2007

Is it Tuesday? Wednesday? July? We have no idea. Leaving Honolulu Tuesday at noon, and after a ten and a half hour flight we arrive in Sydney at 7:30 Wednesday night… We had been awake about 18 hours or so, and it was always daylight on the plane. Without any warning whatsoever we had an entire day stripped away. No sweet talk, no candy, no receipt. Poof! Day gone. Buh-Bye. It was all made tolerable by a strategic first class upgrade. Call us snobs, but we like the front of the bus… Cocktails, movies, warm wet towels, gourmet meals, big comfy seats, leg room, first on- first off. It really doesn’t suck.

After a really-really long day our flight lands in Sydney. Before anyone is even allowed to stand up, the Department of Agriculture needs to toxify the plane. An official boards the craft and the door is re-sealed. Then the flight attendants open all the overhead compartments and run back and forth spraying a World Health Organization approved “non-toxic” nuclear-option insect annihilator throughout the plane. We then get to sit and allow the de-lousing agent to absorb and work for about ten minutes or so. I can totally appreciate the logic, and need, for this level of decontamination. Australia already suffers from some of the most devastating environmental impacts of intentionally and unintentionally imported critters found anywhere. Rabbits alone (of which no species are native to the land) have denuded a region larger than the southwest US, creating a barren wasteland and eliminating the habitats of countless native plants and animals.

But don’t bullshit me. If chemistry is powerful enough to kill any and all insects on and in my carry on baggage in ten minutes, there has to be some measurable negative effect on my physiology. At least give the option of a mask of some sort… I can only hold my breath so long.

As we have mentioned in the past other countries know how to reasonably handle customs and airport security. Ask a few questions, x-ray all your stuff, and then let you go about your business. Of course if they don’t like your answers, or the cute little beagle pays too much attention to your bags, or the x-ray is not up to snuff you will be talking to the folks with the automatic weapons and rubber gloves. That being said Aussie customs were a polite efficient and friendly group. All we had to do was show our bag of trail mix and off we went.
Our flight to New Zealand was the following morning so we opted to stay at a hotel near the airport. A quick shuttle van ride and we were at the hotel. It was a nice, clean, brick-faced property with smallish, clean, efficient rooms. Perfect for good nights rest and a quick hop to the airport in the morning. So far no one has made fun of our accents (to our faces at least…)

Hawaii- The Big Island 10-15 January 2007

10-15, Jan 2007

A week on the Big Island to start the trip off right. Hawaii, the county, not the state. We caught the sunset during our layover in Maui.



The most amazingly accurate and readable guidebooks on the planet are the “Ultimate” guides to the various islands (www.wizardpub.com). They strongly recommend a 4WD for the Big Island. Almost all things to see and do require clearance and all wheel drive to get to them. This includes many of the state parks, beaches, dive access points and the volcano sites. You can get to some sites by car, but the best stuff requires a truck, or a willingness to make very long hikes across hot desolate lava fields.

The Big Island is BIG. All of the other islands can be jig-sawed together and easily fit into the area occupied by this island. Combining Connecticut and Rhode Island will give the same land area. In addition, it is still growing every day. A lava flow that began in the early 90’s still adds acreage 24-7. Being a younger (geologically that is) island it is still rough around the edges. Quite literally. The entire coastline is jagged.

Beaches are migratory, and rarely easily accessible. One Kailua beach loses its sand with the first big winter storm surge. The sand moves offshore until calmer weather returns, then it moves back onto the beach. Intellectually stimulating, yet not so good for the feet… entering the water across and through lava shelves is always a tricky process. Snorkeling is pretty low stress though. The water is not too deep; there are some cross currents, but nothing to cause panic.




(Science side note: Being a young island, Hawaii has not had the chance to develop a large coral reef system. Parrotfish and their relatives eat coral then poop sand (A large parrotfish can produce up to three tons of sand a year… insert your own favorite poop story here.). Black, red and green sand come from pulverized lava and mineral intrusions at the shoreline. A typical reef forms a breakwater of sorts, protecting the shore, and therefore the sand, from the stronger currents and surges, as well as providing the material to replace what is washed away.)

We were staying with a retired chiropractor buddy and Palmer grad from WA, Jim Stanley. He only works five days a week now. However, he absolutely loves it. It’s hard to stressed working in the tropics… His place is on the side of the mountain in Kailua and has a phenomenal sunset view.

We did make a point of traveling to both the most northern and southern tips of the island. These opposite ends are about 120 miles apart. The northern tip has the small village of Hawi (Hah-Vee), which may actually be trapped in a temporal distortion that locks it into 1956. A truly quaint (read small and isolated) old sugar mill town that has been re-inventing itself as an “artist” community. The real draw here is Pololu Beach (Pō-Lō-Loo). A short and sweet 400’ vertical hike down into a mist shrouded river valley drops you onto a wonderful black sand beach. Backing the beach are some fairly old sand dunes, now solidly anchored by trees and vegetation. A well-worn trail system criss-crosses through the forest, and continues up and over into the adjacent valleys. Very pleasant and well worth both the drive and hike.

The locals are the most friendly in Hawaii (the state) that we have found. Graffiti consists of white coral chunks out in the lava fields arranged to form words and pictures. Usually sentiments regarding loved ones, kids, and the occasional art piece. It looks to be a family affair; we noticed a mini-van with the hatch open, back piled high with coral chunks, and the family up in the lava spelling out a message.

The ancient (1875 and earlier...) Hawaiians used to carve ritiulistic icons into the lava rock. They didn't tell the explorers why. None of our business... The petroglyphs can be found all over the place.

KK had a spa opportunity before we left the mainland. A good scrubbing to give her that ready-for-some-color glow. Jim recommended a local spa for JD to lose a few skin layers himself. A little indulgence to start the big trip smooth as a babies butt (Why butt? Babies’ butts can be quite nasty and evil. Always in contact with some gag-initiating substance, often rash-covered. I wouldn’t pay money to develop itchy red bumps and smell like poo…) Anyway, I wander here. Twenty minutes or so of aromatherapy steam followed by a forty-five minute salt scrub with oils. Manly? No, Yummy? Yep. Of course JD had to avoid the sun for the rest of the day. A small price to pay to make sure he tans evenly over the next few months…

Our last full day on the island we decided to trip on down to the southern most point of the US. Imaginatively called “South Point”. On the journey we pass one of the greatest real-estate misjudgments in the islands history. A master-planned community called Ocean View (also known as Hawaiian Ocean View Estates, or H.O.V.E.) Originally developed in the 60’s, it was 1,100 one-acre plots that sold for $995 each. Up until a couple of years ago you could still pick up plots for under $1,500. Around the new millennium they got electricity… Rain cisterns are still the water supply. It was developed on a lava flow that resulted from a 1907 eruption of the still very active Mauna Loa… (Build a house on the north flank of Mt. St. Helens anyone? It hasn’t erupted in almost twenty-five years, I’m sure it will be a long time before it ever does it again…)

The wind is constant on this part of the island, and a functional wind farm takes full advantage. The access road to south point is single lane. It has been spot-patched thousands of times. Picture hundreds of pancake sized asphalt patches overlapped along a car-wide strip of road. Full bladders suffer the most. That’s just to get to the first parking area. The 4WD trails start from there. Our explorer had the traction, but not the clearance. After a couple of frame scrapes and horizontal challenges we aborted the side mission to Green Sands Beach. Kimberly’s old Wrangler would have been fine, adventurous yes, but fine nonetheless. We picked up a nice couple from Milford, PA on the way back to the parking area. They enjoyed the ride out as well.

Weather prevented any diving, however it was a good visit with Jim, and we did see a new island. We are heading to the airport at 5 am, and will be attempting a first class upgrade for the long flight.

More pictures at our SmugMug site (Parents- click the colored underlined words with your mouse...)

Jan 01-09 The adventure begins

We had a rowdy beginning to the new year, friends, food and festivity. It was a black & white theme, our profile photo is from the gathering. A final throw-down to begin the year right...

The week that followed was busy busy. There is a lot to handle before an extensive trip. Australia initially denied JD's visa. Sordid past? Didn't like his passport photo? We may never know. After a nice note to the embassy in Ottowa Canada (go figure...) he was approved. Kimberly was instantaneously approved. In fact they may not let her leave. Apparently a shortage of redheads or some such thing...

Of course, despite our best efforts, we will surely have something come up at an inauspicious time... Figuring which friends we can pile the inconvienence and hassle of mail drop, financial oversight, package drop, and emergency supply staging is a challenge. Who deserves which headache? They say they love us now, but love is fleeting (just like time...)

All the long-term travel books refer to packing light. Neither of us can pull off the one shirt, one pair of underwear, one pair of pants thing. Our primary packs are less than 50 pounds, much to our surprise. Renting dive gear is reasonably safe, especially from a PADI 4 or 5 star facility, however, renting climbing gear is just not a good idea. JD thinned out his climbing rack, but you still need certain basics.

We also made solid arrangements for our first few days lodging in Auckland. Jet lag, and getting used to living tomorrow when our biological clock thinks its really yesterday, and a dozen hours of travel will need to be diffused.



Our initial transition will be on the Big Island, just outside of Kona. We are typically Maui people, so this will be new and different. We are as pasty white as two Seattlites can be. It is possible that we even glow in the dark. If we tan for three days we can make it to alabaster. Burka time... SPF 3000. We'll just have to spend as much time underwater as we can. Not like that's a bad thing though. Besides, JD needs a good sinus cleansing after his weeks of living with cats.

We left Seattle just in time. Aparrently another big wind, snow and freezing temps system rolled through last night. Most school districts will be in session until the end of June, maybe even into July, to make up for lost days.


JD is still working on the SmugMug photo hosting site. Links will be applied as they are created.


Its All Good!


Love

JD & Kimberly