Reflections 3

How time flies. I've been home for almost 4 days now, relaxing and doing very little. I've only just managed to catch up on my blog today, and my pack is still strewn over the lounge floor.

Everything is still where I left it on Monday night...

My now ass-less rain pants, torn at the top of Tongariro. Off to the bin.

Lazy? Very probably. Though I wonder if I am dragging my heels a bit for a reason. When the blog is finished and the pack is out of sight, my mind will move on to other things and my adventure will truly be over. But this way, at least the thought of the last few weeks is lingering with me for a few extra days.

Thinking back about this last trip, it seemed long at the time, but in hindsight it's gone so quickly. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was waving goodbye to Paul in Te Kuiti and setting off into the unknown. But this trip has certainly been different in a number of ways from my previous TA hikes. Here are a few of the differences that come to mind:

The elements:

So. Much. Rain! Weather hasn't been a factor prior to this trip - it has always been reasonable, after all how bad can the weather be mid-summer? Pretty bad, it would seem, with the potential to stop me in my tracks (the slip, the crossing, various rivers to ford, and the canoe trip).

The logistics:

For the first time, I had deadlines on this trip - to make it to Tongariro for the crossing, and to make it to the river for the canoe. It wasn't just a matter of going at my own leisurely pace, there was pressure to be at certain places by certain times.

The distances:

Right from the beginning, I found myself covering much larger distances that I have before. In a couple of cases there was no option; in others, I needed to push further to try to stay ahead of the weather. It's not ideal at all - very long days on legs that aren't trail-hardened quickly led to very sore feet, and an emergence of some of the achilles tendonitis that I had on my very first TA trip. Plus, long days on hard roads are not enjoyable. I need to remind myself - shorter is better, at least for the first few weeks.

The safety:

OK, unlike other trips where the biggest risk was getting lost for a few moments, there were certainly times where I felt unsafe on this trip. 

1. Passing the 42 Traverse slip - I was nervous at the time, and it went well, but it was a rather unsafe decision to attempt it (I've heard that since the rain, DOC have now posted wardens on either side of the slip to turn hikers back). 
2. The Tongariro Crossing. It was a dodgy decison to attempt the crossing in that weather, and for a few minutes on the ridge I was genuinely deeply scared. I would love to see an aerial shot of the ridge, to work out in the light of day where I was and how safe or unsafe it really was.
3. Our great canoe accident on day 1 of the Whanganui River. It ended well, but it could have been disastrous.
4. Piling onto Muz's quad bike. OK, maybe not in the same league as the others, but under the circumstances, this wasn't sensible decision-making!

The people:

This was perhaps the biggest difference of all. My previous TA adventures have been intensely solo. But looking back through my blog, so many of my photos are in the company of others. Even though I have been hiking by myself, with so many other TA hikers around it hasn't felt lonely. It has been a great experience sharing my adventures, and I've made some good friends along the way. It's bittersweet saying goodbye to so many as they head on down the trail - but maybe I'll even bump into a few of them somewhere down the line.

Looking at the numbers - this trip was 21 days and 491km long. I've effectively been hiking the TA now for 66 days in total, and I am now at the 1374km mark. The bottom of the North Island is now only about 340km away!

Thinking back, there were times on this trip when I did say to myself: enough of this madness, this will be my last TA adventure. After multiple long days, sometimes it is easy to feel weary and jaded, and to lose some of the sense of enjoyment and accomplishment. But then other days, it comes back. The moments that will most stay in my memory from this trip are definitely the challenging ones - most notably the Tongariro Crossing, and the river capsize. But also the social ones - Chris, Lynne, Jonnie, Muz, and others. And the sense of accomplishment. I've come so far! I think maybe I can go a bit further.

And my song of this trip? Definitely White Wine in the Sun. I think I'm going to play it now (for real, not in my head), as I finish off this last blog entry, and sign off. Until next year!

Heading home

I had a lovely night's sleep at Janet and Brian’s - I slept like a log and didn’t surface until well after 8:30am. Getting ready for my bus trip home to Auckland, it was strange thinking that I was packing my pack for the very last time this trip - like a final bookend to this summer’s adventures. After breakfast and a coffee, it was on the bus at 11:30am for the 8-hour trip home.

Thanks so much, Janet and Brian!

Lunch stop in Taumarunui

The trip was boring, and uneventful - 8 hours later I was arriving in Central Auckland, and by 8pm I was back in the apartment. It was strange not having Paul to greet me - he had flown out to Melbourne earlier today - but Rocco was there to give me a welcome home cuddle, and Paul FaceTimed soon after.

A celebratory FaceTime chat with Paul in Melbourne

Relaxing with Rocco - and my "welcome home" beer!

And, just like that, it's over! Though I have to pinch myself that this trip has really ended. The last three weeks have certainly had their fair share of challenges, probably more so than any of my previous TA sections. I'll rest up for a few days - it will take time to unpack and to get my blog up to date. And I definitely need time to reflect back on everything that has happened during this trip - so when I get my thoughts together I will finish as usual with a final reflection about this recent adventure.

But for now, it's good to be home!

Day 66: Hipango Park to Whanganui (26km, 6.5 hours)

Today is my last day!

I didn't sleep that well overnight - probably the lingering effects of Pink Floyd and manuka honey. But also the fact that I needed to be up by 4:30am. The 20km river journey today was tidal, so we needed to leave at 5:30am to catch the outgoing tide. The campsite and river were shrouded in mist when I woke - my headlamp wasn't working for some reason, so I packed up and carried the barrels carefully down the hill mostly in the dark.

A misty start

Getting ready to depart from Hipango Park wharf

And we're off!

A boat selfie

The paddle today was serene. There were no rapids at all - the mist lingered for a long while, the river was glassy, and we were being helped by the outgoing tide. Most of the time Jonnie and I paddled in silence, just the sound of the water and the occasional geese. We could see increasing signs of civilisation as we approached Whanganui - some traffic noises, more buildings, even a rowing race on the river. By 8:30am, we were at the Whanganui Holiday Park, which officially marks the end of our canoe journey.

We took a while packing our gear out of the barrels and back into our backpacks, and saying goodbye to our trusty canoe, which we left at the prearranged place for the company to pick up later. And while we were doing that, who did we see but Chris and Lynne! They'd made it here safely yesterday (though very late), and had booked a cabin at the holiday park for the night.

A final round of goodbyes - this time, for real. Chris and Lynn would be heading direct to Wellington in a few days to make a start on the South Island; and Jonnie would be continuing the TA hike south, through Palmerston North and towards the Tararua ranges. Jonnie noted that there weren't many people she could share a canoe with for 5 days - I take that as high praise. Thanks Jonnie, likewise! This has been a memorable leg of the trip, it's been great sharing it with you.

Packing up the canoe

Saying goodbye to Jonnie (aka Windmill)

…and goodbye to Lynne and Chris (aka Jones and Jonesy)

All that was left was the final 6km walk into the centre of Whanganui, and my trip would be over. It was good to get the backpack on for one last time. The road continued to follow the river to town, and by midday I was there.

Hear the one about the constipated maths teacher? He worked it out with a pencil

The centre of Whanganui, and the official end of my trip

A celebratory mochaccino. Victory! (and, relief!)

It was a strange feeling to finally stop. I think in my mind I'd already said my goodbyes to the TA over the last few days - in the campsite at Ngaporo, and then later watching Chris and Lynne disappear down the river from Hipango Park. So my feelings were mixed - it was good to stop, but bittersweet that I wasn't continuing on.

A familar face passing by! Nici was a fellow hiker from Taumaranui through to Tongariro. She wanted to know if I had a song for this trip - yes I do! 

I was staying tonight with friends Janet and Brian, and Brian arrived soon after to collect me. It was lovely to see familiar faces after the last three weeks, though I had to have a shower before I could give Janet a hug - too much accumulated grime, and no towel or deodorant! Janet and Brian were wonderful - I aired my tent, washed my clothes, relaxed, chatted to Brian about the history of the Whanganui River (he was the DOC are manager along the river for some time!), and battled a cryptic crossword with Janet. Thanks so much to you both for having me stay!

It hasn't yet sunk in that my trip is over. But for now, it's been lovely catching up with Janet and Brian. 

Today’s route. The final one!

Day 65: Flying Fox Campsite to Hipango Park Campsite (34km, 5.5 hours)

The owners of the Flying Fox, Kelly and Jane, had warned us about the rooster. He certainly took his job seriously: the crowing started at 4am on the dot, and carried on for the next three hours. The chickens were only a few metres away from my tent, so I got it at full volume.

We took our time packing up and moving our barrels back down to the river, and were off at a very leisurely 9am. It was easy-going paddling today - the river was mostly calm, no scary rapids, and beautiful clear skies. There were no other canoes on the river - the "great walk" canoes all tend to finish shortly after the 50/50 rapid yesterday, and it is really only TA hikers who continue further for the last 2-3 days to Whanganui.

I've learnt my lesson about taking breaks, so we stopped several times - for morning tea with Chris and Lynne, and then later just Jonnie and myself under a shady tree, along with a few goats.

Mid morning break with Jonnie, Chris and Lynne

View upriver

Once again the headwind grew in the afternoon, and it started to become scorching hot.  So we were rather glad when we arrived mid-afternoon at our final campsite, Hipango Park. The river is tidal from this point onwards - steamers used to come upriver to Hipango, and we tied up at the abandoned wharf.

Chris and Lynne were already here, but I noticed they hadn't unpacked their canoe. Apparently they had decided to push on this afternoon, and catch the outgoing tide for the last 4 hours to Whanganui. All of a sudden I was saying goodbye, probably for the last time. They'd been my travelling companions off and on since I met them in Taumarunui almost two weeks earlier, and I really didn't want them to go. I waved them off with misty eyes and a lump in my throat, and watched them for the next 5 minutes as they paddled around a bend in the river and out of sight. Goodbye Jones and Jonesy, it's been a pleasure sharing the TA with you.

Final farewells 

Goodbye, Jones and Jonesy!

Watching until they disappeared around the bend. Goodbyes can be hard...

The hill was the longest yet, up a steep quadbike track. The campsite was a large grassy area with a shelter, and we took shelter there from the searing sun. Jonnie and I were the only ones there, so we were expecting a very quiet night. Or so we thought.

We had heard snippets of music being played somewhere in the distance, and the sound of a quad bike. But our quiet afternoon was interrupted when the quad bike raced up the hill to the campsite. The driver, a local guy called Muz, wanted some help with his digger - it had apparently snapped its track some days before, and he needed someone to guide him while he tried to fix it. We agreed - we had nothing else to do! - and he said he'd be back in an hour when it was cooler, and roared off.

Two hours later, he was back. Jonnie and I piled on to the back of the quad bike and he raced back down the hill, along another trail, past the abandoned digger, and uphill to his home. It seems he wanted to chat probably more than he wanted to fix the digger! He proceeded to bring out a never-ending supply of Heineken, and then for the next 3 hours we listened to his stories.

It's actually hard to describe the experience of that evening, but the closest word I can think of is "surreal". Muz was a real character, and while his stories seemed farfetched at times I'm inclined to think they were probably all true. Here are some snippets from the evening:

 - He had built the house himself from what he had found on the land and down the river (it seems that while he also has a place in Whanganui, this land was left to him and he spends most of his time here)

 - He is a self-taught carver who apparently carves in a semi-trance in the dark. He has large maori-inspired carvings all around the property, and they are in demand by many of the iwi up and down the river. His driftwood taniwha were genuinely amazing!

 - He has a lovely dog called Trixie, and a beautiful horse called Princess, who he rides bareback along the hilltops

 - He proudly showed off the 3-metre wind turbine he had just build (out of an old fridge motor and some pieces of plastic drainpipe) - clearly an enterprising guy!

 - He keeps sheep, and bees

 - He has an outdoor bath set up under the stars, fed with spring water, which he invited us to use (we declined!)

 - He regaled us with stories of the many jetboats he has sunk and the many brushes with drowning he has had on the river

 - He regaled us with more stories of rich visitors who have stayed with him and he has won money from - who he had beaten at pool, or raced up the hill. He didn't seem to be boasting in any way - I got a sense that Muz probably has all the money he needs, it's just not important to him.

 - He insisted on cooking us sausages and steak (which I ate most of - Jonnie doesn't eat much meat)

 - All the while, his music was cranked up. He even started dancing - strangely gracefully for a big guy, with some definite maori-inspired movements. 

 - When he heard I was a teacher, he seemed genuinely respectful - I was the first teacher who he had met on the river apparently. He wanted to play Pink Floyd's "We Don't Need No Education" in my honour, but couldn't find it on his playlist.

 - Muz's eyes lit up when he heard that Jonnie worked on wind turbines in the USA. He seemed to treat this as kismet - he had just built a functioning wind turbine, and her presence was destiny telling him he now needed to build an even bigger one. Our mission for the evening then became to advise him which of the several motors around the property he should use, and how big his new wind turbine should be. 

 - I don't think he registered our names - but he immediately christened us "Windmill" and "Teacher"

Muz talked non-stop for the entire evening - I think he was eager for some company. It was almost 8pm, the light was fading, and it was time to extricate ourselves and head back to camp. Muz still insisted on showing us the windmill motors, and fixing his digger. In a rather unsafe decision, Jonnie and I climbed on the back of his quad bike, and clung on for dear life while Muz raced back downhill - first to show us contenders for his new planned windmill motor (we told him to use the biggest one - which vindicated what he wanted to do), and then to help with his digger. He was trying to use the digger's bucket to lift up the broken tread, but needed someone to guide him - I wasn't sure exactly what I was doing, but he seemed pleased with the result.

Finally, we were deposited back at the campsite. As Muz departed back down the hill, Jonnie and I looked at each other, and burst out laughing. What a totally surreal evening!

I think what was most amazing about the whole evening was Muz's positivity. I have never met such a continually upbeat person. He was full of life, and plans - "if you believe in yourself you can do anything; don't wait, do it now!" And he was so generous, and genuinely appreciative to meet us. Muz, you were inspirational - thank you for an unexpected evening, it was one of the highlights of my hike.

As I was falling asleep in my tent, I heard the music crank up in the distance. It was The Wall album by Pink Floyd, played at high volume so that it reached us clearly all the way from his house to the campsite. I like to think that it was a final gift from Muz, in honour of Windmill and Teacher.

Muz insisted on a pic with this one... not sure why all the bones were placed at the base though!

With Jonnie and Muz

And like that... he's gone

Finally heading to bed, to the sound of Pink Floyd. My last night before I finish!

Today’s route

Day 64: Ngaporo Campsite to Flying Fox Campsite (40km, 7 hours)

The river was covered with mist when I woke up, which was both beautiful and mystical. 

Before breakfast I chatted with Jonnie about moments from previous parts of the Te Araroa. I particularly recollected the final day of my first TA journey, fording the estuary to Long Bay and walking down the bays to Central Auckland and home. I think for the first time I was aware of that sense of my journey ending soon - Whanganui is only 3 days away, after all. As I packed up my tent, I thought of the lyrics to White Wine In The Sun again, and burst into tears.

I cried yet again as I was trying to explain it to Chris and Lynne, as we were getting ready to launch the canoes. I'm looking forward to the end of this particular journey, but at the same time I don't want it to come. Ahh, endings!

I was nervous about today's route - mainly because of the dreaded 50/50 rapid, which we were going to encounter within the first hour or two. I really didn't want to repeat our first day's drama - and this time I was at the back steering again! If we flipped, it would be my fault. The mist was clearing as we set off at about 8am - it was going to be a sunny day today.

Mist clearing over the river in the morning

Getting ready to head off with my fellow paddler

We had agreed to paddle along with Chris and Lynne until after the 50/50 rapid, just in case either of us got into trouble. The rapids for the first hour were all gentle enough. Once again we were passing high cliffs, with increasing numbers of goats, and geese - and a huge dead pig lying at the water's edge. 

The 50/50 rapids when we came to them were almost a letdown - so much so that we wondered for a while if they even were the dreaded rapids! Probably the river level was still high from the recent rains, making the rapids much easier to pass - there were some big standing waves, but not the worst we had encountered, and we barely took any water on board. Nonetheless we both felt very relieved that we had passed through safely. From here on there weren't supposed to me any further rapids of concern.

Lunch was on a sandy beach, eating burritos that Lynne had made for us this morning with her leftover refried beans. My knees were starting to get burned in the sun, and I ended up fishing out my rain pants to cover them for the rest of the trip. I discovered that the ass had been torn out of my rain pants from when I was shuffling on my bum across the peak of Tongariro - they are useless for rain protection now, but were just what I needed to protect my lily-white thighs from the searing sun.

Stopping for lunch. Thanks Lynne for the burritos!

Chris and Lynne paddling past

Our campsite tonight was at the Flying Fox - an eco-retreat that catered for TA hikers too. The river was calm and we needed to battle a few headwinds at times, but we'd had a good lunch and were up to the task. The only problem was we weren't sure where the Flying Fox was - we certainly didn't want to overshoot and miss it! I was starting to get a bit worried, but breathed a sigh of relief when we saw a half-hidden sign, and wires across the river that turned out to be the cable car that the Flying Fox was named after.

It was rather tricky tying up the canoe to the bank (there was no beach!), and the longest uphill trek yet with our barrels. But the Flying Fox when we reached it was amazing. It had fruit trees, chickens, outdoor showers - even wifi and a shop. With wine! It was just the four of us again staying in the campsite - there were a few others staying in one of the lodges on the property, but we barely saw them.

It was great relaxing with Chris, Lynne and Jonnie over a bottle of wine and a couple of beers, surrounded by chickens. Dinner was the last of my heat 'n' eat tortellinis. I ended up in my tent using the wifi to post some pics to my blog for the last few days, before falling asleep.

The Flying Fox camp has everything. Even chickens!

All set for the night

Wine and a couple of beers from the campsite shop

Checking on the canoes before bed

Today’s route

Day 63: John Coull Hut to Ngaporo Campsite (44km, 8.5 hours)

There was once again some heavy rain and wind overnight - poor Jonnie in her tent! Over breakfast (muesli) the ranger said that apparently the river had risen a metre but then dropped down just as quickly, so it was safe to push on. After repacking our barrels, lugging them back down the hill and lashing them into the canoe, we were off at 8am.

We had arranged to alternate positions in the canoe, and I think after yesterday Jonnie was glad to hand the steering over to me today. There is certainly more responsibility in the back! But as luck would have it the going was a little easier today, with only relatively minor rapids that we navigated down without mishap. The morning was cloudy, and once again the river was amazing, still passing through bush-covered ravines. We frequently saw wild goats and ducks at the river's edge, and tui and kereru in the trees alongside. 

The river goes ever on...

Jonnie and I were getting along well. It was slightly surreal to be spending so much time with an ex-student, but fun to compare notes, and fascinating to hear her experiences both at school and in the USA. And we were both also very comfortable with paddling along in silence, just appreciating the river.

At about 11am we reached the small landing to the Bridge to Nowhere - a major stone bridge built by settlers in the area, most of whom had moved on by the time of completion so it ended up unused. The landing was rather narrow and slippery, but the easy 30-minute walk to the bridge was a good chance to stretch our legs. Jonnie took some pics (both of the bridge and subsequently down the river), hopefully I'll be able to get some from her down the line and will add them to my blog when I do.

Waving at Chris and Lynne, who snapped this as they passed by while we were tying up the boat at the Bridge to Nowhere landing. Along with a random stranger.

Back on the river, the afternoon was harder going. After last night's rain the river seemed swollen, with strange eddies and drifting logs. There were few rapids and the current was rather slow, much less than yesterday; and with an increasing headwind it became harder to steer and took much more effort to make progress. It threatened to rain (though never did), but trying to stay ahead of the bad weather I decided to press on without taking a proper lunch break. Jonnie wisely made her lunch in the boat while we drifted (her go-to lunch is a wrap with peanut butter, honey and oatmeal!?!), but I couldn't be bothered to try to open my sealed food barrel on the river. Bad call - I got progressively more tired and frustrated as the headwind got stronger over the course of the afternoon. I largely paddled in grumpy silence.

We finally arrived at our campsite exhausted, at about 4:30pm. Chris and Lynne were already there waving as we arrived. We lugged our barrels up the obligatory hill, but I was still tired and grumpy and in no mood to talk to anyone - I needed to sit in silence for 15 minutes and eat half of my emergency salami before I started to be human again.

Arriving at Ngaporo campsite

Recovering with the help of a salami. 

The campsite was just a piece of grass, a couple of toilets, a water tank, and a little shelter with a table for cooking and eating. It was just the four of us here today - we were expecting Shaz, Bex and Stuart to be here, but we eventually found an "intentions" book and saw that they had left a note for us saying they were continuing downstream. After another emergency Jim Bean & coke (and also my emergency pringles!), it was tortellini again for dinner. 

There were no mishaps today, but we had been on the river for much longer than yesterday. After taking a few pics, I was in my sleeping bag by 7pm.

Dinner with Jonnie, Lynne and Chris

Views downriver from the campsite

...and upriver...

...and across the river!

Back in my tent

Today’s route (purple and blue)

Day 62: Whakahoro to John Coull Hut (35km, 5 hours)

It rained heavily overnight. Not good - if the river rose too much or if the ongoing forecast was too bad, our trip would be off. In the morning we packed, and waited nervously for Taumarunui Canoes to arrive. 

At 9:30am their van finally turned up - towing a trailer of canoes. It turned out that the river was a bit swollen, and some heavy rain was forecast for later in the day as ex-Cyclone Hale passes to the east, but nonetheless the Whanganui River trip was on! We followed the van the 400m down the hill to the river bank, and helped to offload the canoes. 

While I'm a solo hiker and was planning to kayak, it's not possible to fit one person's gear and five days of food in a single kayak. So I was prepared to either be buddied up with a two-person canoe to carry the remainder of my gear, or to join another solo hiker in a canoe instead. It turns out there was another solo TA walker Jonnie, who had been camping near us the on the last two evenings, and Taumarunui Canoes had arranged for us to buddy up in a canoe. It took over an hour to offload the canoes, collect the barrels of food that we had conveniently left with the canoe company to transport down for us, stow our packs and everything else in other watertight barrels, and have a quick practice paddle. Finally at about 11am, feeling somewhat underprepared and still a bit wobbly on the steering, we set off down the river, the last of our group to leave.

There is no 10am pic from me this morning unfortunately - or indeed from here onwards. Capsizing is a real risk on this trip: the 50/50 rapid on day three alone apparently has a 50% chance of flipping us, and there are a series of lesser rapids all the way down. Best to be cautious - I reluctantly made the decision to stow my phone and glasses carefully inside one of the waterproof barrels for the entire trip. As a result I don't have many photos taken while on the river - I hope to collect a few from Lynne and Jonnie afterwards, and will add them to my blog retrospectively when I do.

For the first day I was at the front of the canoe (main job: paddling), and Jonnie was at the back (main job: steering). I hadn't spoken to Jonnie much up until now, but she did look vaguely familiar. And while comparing where we were from and what we were doing on the TA, it turned out that she was an ex-WSC student from 10 years ago! I hadn't taught her directly, but we spent a while comparing notes and sharing memories about the school. It's a small world! Jonnie is living in the USA at the moment: her job is to travel the country to remote wind farms, and abseil down 80-metre wind turbines to inspect and repair blades that may have been damaged by lightning.

The Whanganui River is normally brown - maybe a little more so than usual at the moment because of the bad weather. The scenery is incredible - much of the time the river flows through a deep ravine between high cliff walls on both sides, covered in dense lush bush, ferns, punga and nikau palms. While there were a number of other canoes setting off at a similar time to us, we all travelled at different speeds, and most of the time we couldn't see any others.

Canoeing the Whanganui River

The view from the boat

The river had multiple small rapids on the way down. Steering down the rapids was tricky at first - each one needed good communication, reflexes, balance, and a lot of mad paddling. Still, for the first hour and a half we made it safely through, and were starting to build up a bit more confidence. There was some occasional light drizzle and we were rather damp, but the storm was staying away. After a while we decided to stop for lunch on one of the small pebble beaches. 

Jonnie and I taking a lunch break. Peanut butter wraps!

Back on the river, we were approaching the first rapid after lunch, when disaster struck. This small set of rapids had rocks and a sunken branch in the middle of the river. We had to pick either left or right - sadly, with some miscommunication and fumbling, we chose too late, and came too close to the rocks. The river seemed to push us broadside into them - the boat hit with a massive thud, and we were both catapulted into the river. I ended up being carried downstream, along with both our paddles, while Jonnie and the boat were stuck squarely in the middle!

This was a pretty scary moment. I managed to catch up with the paddles, but the current was far too strong to swim back to the canoe - I managed somehow to make it across the current to the river bank with the two paddles, then stumbled back up to where Jonnie and the canoe were still stuck. However the boat had immediately filled completely with water, and wouldn't budge at all. We tied standing in the rapids, tugging at it for several minutes, with little progress. Luckily another canoe had caught up with us at this point, and a guy jumped in to try to help us. With his help we managed to tug the canoe loose - it immediately flipped (a good thing, as that emptied out much of the water), and we were able to swim with it back to shore. 

In hindsight, the whole event was a replay of the "what not to do" video that they had showed us almost 10 days previously in Taumarunui. D'oh! 

Back on the river bank, we took stock. Miraculously, the boat wasn't holed or broken; and all the watertight barrels had remained watertight and were still roped to the canoe. We had all our paddles - but my cap and one of my jandals had sailed down river, lost forever. It could have been quite disastrous - but luck was with us. We breathed a sigh of relief, and had to sit down before we had enough energy to bail out the boat and enough courage to carry on down the river.

Soon after, torrential rain set in. For an hour and a half the heavens opened and a deluge came down. No point trying to stay dry - we were soaked already anyway from the capsize - so we paddled on through the rain. Multiple waterfalls appeared on both sides of the river, and we could sense the river rising and the current increasing. We had been warned about the risk of the river flooding, and pushed on as fast as we could to try and reach the first day's hut before that might happen.

One of many spontaneous waterfalls

Later we passed the canoe of the guy who had jumped in to help us - to see him waving my missing jandal! Amazingly, they had found it floating down the river. Later the rain eventually stopped - the river became calmer, and the rapids milder. With the increased speed of the river we must have made faster than normal time, so we were surprised when we rounded a corner to see our first day's destination an hour or two ahead of schedule - the John Coull DOC hut.

Unloading our canoes 

All huts and campsites down the river are a long way uphill, because of the flooding risk. So after tying up the canoe, it took some time and several trips to untie and then lug our heavy barrels (5 of them!) uphill to the hut.

John Coull Hut

For a moment I felt a little guilty that Jonnie was in her tent while I was in the hut. But that moment passed very quickly (sorry Jonnie!) 

Heat ‘n’ eat tortellini for dinner, out of my Taumarunui food barrel

Fellow paddlers Joe and Vivian, from Ireland. Good to hear they also capsized - it wasn't just us!

Chris and Lynne arrived shortly after us, although Shaz, Bex and Stuart had continued for 1 more hour further down the river to another campsite, and it turned out I wouldn't see them again. We compared river stories over dinner - they had avoided flipping today, but were suitably impressed by our big adventure.

After dinner, Jonnie turned up at the hut - with my lost cap! Apparently another camper in her campsite had mentioned that they had found it on the river. So, the net result after our big crash was that nothing was lost (apart from some pride). What are the odds...? I had to treat myself to one of my emergency cans of Jim Beam & coke to celebrate.

Reunited with my cap and jandal! So chuffed - I’d though they were lost forever...

And, it was off to bed for an early night. It turns out there were only 10 of us in the bunkroom - it sleeps 20 and was supposed to be full, but clearly there had been a lot of people pulling out of the river trip because of the bad weather. We had been warned of possibly more bad weather overnight, and the risk that if the river rises too much we may need to wait it out here for a day. Fingers crossed.

What a day! 

The largely empty bunk room

Today’s route (in purple)