A Dangerous Business

Date: 19th December 2023

Start: Whakahoro Bunkrooms (km 1215.2)

End: Mangawaiiti Campsite (river km 47.5)

Distance Travelled: 47.5 km

Total Distance Completed: 1189.7 km

Song Currently Stuck in Head: Drunken Sailor by Irish Rovers

Sources of Pain: arms and butt

Just to be upfront, there won’t be many photos of the next few days. Whilst paddling my phone sits in a dry bag inside a waterproof barrel that really isn’t that accessible, only getting pulled out during breaks. As such, these posts are going to be a bit text-heavy. Without further ado, let’s begin.

A convoy of canoes filed past our campsite at 9:30, making their way down to the boat ramp. Inside the ute carrying them was Vicky, Sonja, and Sean, Melly’s boyfriend who’d be joining us for the river. In the back were all our barrels that we’d packed a week ago, along with two extra ones per person for the contents of our packs and for our packs themselves.

I hoped to pair up with somebody I knew well. Unfortunately I left it a bit too late and paired with a Spanish guy named Nil. I was a bit apprehensive to go down the river with a stranger, but I kept a positive outlook, seeing it as an opportunity to make a new friend. To see us off, the hire company had bought down more delicious bread, then gave us a final safety briefing (including how to tie the barrels together), setting off at 10:30am.

The first rapid was right after we left. Nil and I remembered to follow the safety briefing and found the safest line through. A few splashes came into the boat, but otherwise it was easy. What wasn’t easy was the paddling itself. I have zero upper body strength and paddling is all upper body work. I struggled most of the day. Nil is a bit stronger than me but still on the low side compared to some other people. As such, we were at the back of the pack for most of the day, making my competitive side quite frustrated.

I tried to put all that aside and focus on the river. This has got to be one of the most remote areas of the North Island. There is no sign of civilisation out here. No roads, no buildings, no mobile reception. With the rapids, there’s no turning back, not with a canoe at least. All you can do is keep going down the river.

The atmosphere at each rest point was quite jovial. Everyone seemed pretty excited to be on river, helped by the fact that everyone had a few luxury items in their barrels to make life just a bit more bearable. Another highlight was the sighting of a pair of whio/blue ducks, an endangered species that only lives on clean, fast flowing rivers. It’s not my first sighting of them, I’ve also spotted them on the Milford and Routeburn tracks in Fiordland, but it still feels special seeing a rare bird that – last time I checked – is making a comeback thanks to widespread trapping along the rivers they live on.

Because of our late start, we hadn’t covered much ground by the time lunchtime rolled around. I was already very sore, aching arms and a backside that was crying for a cushion; the hard plastic seats were really uncomfortable. Along with the classic wraps I normally have for lunch I had also included a block of cheese and a tub of hummus to have with it. Nutella is nice and all, but I wanted a change. The sun was properly scorching, with no trees on the riverbank to give some semblance of relief from it. We just had to sit there and pray we didn’t get to burnt.

From lunch it was more of the same. A calm river with plenty of fast but small rapids to keep our speed up. Nil was doing an excellent job steering in the back, deftly pivoting the canoe past submerged rocks and trees and finding the best route through each rapid. I was doing my bit up front, albeit in short spurts as I just didn’t have the strength to paddle for long periods of time. Despite our lack of pace compared to the other canoes we still made good time down the river, making our final rest stop at 4:30.

On both sides of the river were tall, steep cliffs, which got me wondering where and how we would park our boats at the campground. At 6:30pm, I found out. A giant DOC sign on the cliff pointed to the campsite, at the bottom of which was a thin “beach” already full of canoes, trees, and rocks. A path led up to the campsite itself, but not before a small rock scramble to reach it. Nil and I pulled in, making an absolute hash of tossing the mooring rope to a wooden pillar on the cliff above us. Carefully and very slowly, we lugged our barrels up the rocks and path to the campground. Most of the flat land was already taken by other people’s tents so I had to settle for one with a bit of a slope to it.

I sat down to prepare dinner, when out of nowhere Sean produces a frying pan. Yes, a frying pan, which he then used to make burgers for him and Melly. In a mixture of amazement, happiness for them and sheer envy I cooked up my noodles, this time with capsicum added to it and a sarsaparilla in my hand. It’s no burger, but it’s a nice addition to what would normally be a rather boring dinner. Going to bed I still felt like I was bouncing around on the river. Worse, I’ve got a cough again. I don’t know where I got it, but did back, although not as severe as when I started. Really hoping it stays that way.