No Rest for the Wicked

We had dragon boat practice a couple of days after the racing. No time to pat ourselves on the back.  This is the time to work on all the faults our coach observed on Saturday. We have three weeks to the Wellington Regatta. We aren't reaching enough, we are flaring our paddles too much, we are arm pulling and not using enough top arm. Its a tough business being a dragon boater...

Actually, that's what everyone else got told. Though I am sure I am committing all those sins as well, I was not in our boat tonight. We had a good muster turn up and not everyone could fit so I volunteered to go in another boat that was short of a paddler.

This lot are in the social grade and are not quite as serious as us. They talked in the boat. No wonder they were all over the show with their timing. The blokes were keen to up the rating which led to a Mexican waving of paddles as others tried to keep in time with the the drummer's counting. This led to a clashing of paddles at times, and much hilarity.

 They made the same errors as my team. They dropped their inside arm into the boat causing the paddles to flare. Their timing was way worse than ours. They needed to increase their reach, stop looking at their paddles and focus on their diagonals. The sweep took us a bit close to the Eastbourne ferry and we got a warning from the rescue boat that has to be out with us when we practice. We practised paddling with our eyes closed to help timing. We almost collided with another dragon boat. 

All in all a good time was had by all. I said goodbye to my new friends.

The weather was mellow and Wellington was in a good mood.

Scorching Bay Tri

Scorching Bay (buoys removed already)

                                       
This was to be a sporty weekend. The day after the dragon boat racing I found myself at 7 o'clock heading to Scorching Bay for a triathlon. I was doing the medium course - a 500 metre swim, a twenty kilometre bike ride and a five kilometre run.
I got my bike into transition just in time to set up my gear and check I had everything - you seem to need a lot for triathlons and you need it set out well so you can transition quickly. I put my bright pink running hat on my bike so I would find it easily and went to watch the start of the long course so I would get an idea of what had to do when we started. There were a confusing amount of buoys showing where to swim but I watched the first lot take off to the pointy buoy out quite a way. They had to go round several times and I watched as they completed the first round, heading back to a couple of buoys in the shallows before heading out again.
I talked to a bloke standing next to me who seemed to be at the point I was at last year - the idea of breathing out a stream of bubbles under water before taking a breath was news to him. We looked out at the pointy buoys and agreed it looked a long way to swim.
I decided it was time to have a warm up swim and get used to the water temperature. I swam about practising my newly acquired 'crocodile peeping' - choosing an object in the distance and swimming towards it by lifting my head a little out of the water and looking towards it before or after taking a breath. Coordination is not my strong point, but I am getting the idea.

With  ten minutes before my race I came out of the water and wandered towards the starting point.  I heard my name called out and there in front of me was my swimming coach. 'Now you know what you are doing, don't you?' she enquired.
 'Yes', I said, 'I am heading out to that pointy buoy, then along to the next one, then in to shore again before doing it again.'  The coach looked horrified.
'No, you are going out to the round buoy, then along to the next round buoy, then in to the shallow buoy, then around once more.'
Really?? Things were looking up - that distance looked a lot more comforting. My confidence went up a tad. I did not have to head out to those pointy buoys in the distance - they were only for the guys doing 1500 metres.
I went to the starting line and found a spot behind the keen group. Two swim caps on, goggles, earplugs, wet suit - I was ready. I managed to keep myself calm and when the hooter went off I set out quietly, just doing what I had been doing in practice, instead of what I had done in the past which had led to quick exhaustion. I practising my crocodile peeps and kept the buoy in sight. No more random zigzagging for me I thought as I rounded the first buoy and sighted the next one. Again I kept a straight line and out of the way of other swimmers, went round the next buoy and headed for the shallow ones. It was the first time I swam with ear plugs and I think the fact everything was muted a little helped me keep my cool.
The next loop seemed easy and I headed in. I couldn't see exactly where the exit was and came up on shore a little away from the spot then headed up the beach, pleased with myself I didn't feel dizzy and disorientated as I normally did after the swim section.
I heard my coach asking did I know where I was going (obviously showing a lack of faith after the buoy episode) and I was able to shout yes as I headed along the rows of bikes towards my pink cap glowing like a beacon. Getting sea sticky wetsuits off in a hurry is not an easy thing, but I did not panic and held it together as I fought myself out of it and put on bike shoes, gloves, teeshirt, race number and helmet.
Right! Off on the bike leg. My legs felt numb and peculiar after the swim and it took a while to get into rhythm. I swigged some water to get rid of the salt taste in my mouth and settled down to a steady pace. I wondered about the fact cyclists regularly hold their races on the road while open to traffic. Permission is obtained which differentiates us from boy racers and off we go like like bats out of hell (well not me, my pace is more sedate), with marshals to help at roundabouts and the like. We had a southerly wind which helped us once we were through the airport tunnel. The next roundabout was our turning point and away I went with not many other cyclists near me. They are probably all in front, I thought. Coming back past Seatoun and heading round the coast I saw ahead of me a cyclist down on the side of the road and people gathering. It looked as though he had been hit by a car backing out. I called out if they needed help but things were in hand so I continued on, scanning for cars coming out of hidden places. As I approached the finish of the bike leg I saw a rescue vehicle heading out for the injured guy. I got off my bike and was running in to transition when again I heard my coach asking if I knew what I was doing. Yes I did, I replied, feeling slightly pained by her (justifiable) lack of trust  and headed in to find my cap locator beacon. Not such a big change of gear this time, just shoes and helmet, then I was off for the run section.
This was hard. My legs felt like lead and my throat was sore from all the yelling I did the day before during the To the Fountain and Back race. The ground changed constantly from asphalt to gravel and back as I avoided runners heading home already. I felt really dry and my progress was slow. It was a relief to reach the half way mark, grab a couple of drinks and start back. Sometimes I get an increase of energy at this point, but not today and I had to stick to my go rather slow style. I didn't even get up speed to look good at the finishing bit, and just trotted in to grab a drink and a banana.
Done and dusted! My swim had gone well which had been the main point of the exercise and I had not come out of the water last as per usual, but somewhere in the middle.
I lounged around till prize-giving though I'm not sure why - I never win a spot prize. It was warm and pleasant and I talked to a few people I knew, including the swim coach who told me this was to be the way of things in the future - no more little feel good triathlons. I am capable of doing the bigger distances she reckons, so I suppose I should give it a go while the body is up to it.

All done and dusted

Waiting for prize giving.

Dragonboat Fun Day

Us in lane one, about to start.

Saturday was Dragon-boat Fun Day in Wellington. I woke slightly late to sunshine and promise, ate a quick breakfast, gathered my gear and and set off down to the harbour.
The racing was to be done  from opposite Fergs Kayaks towards the lagoon, finishing at its entrance. This sets up great viewing for spectators as the whole race is just off from the waterfront and there are plenty of vantage points to take in all the action.
We set up our tent and got into warming up quick-smart as we were down to be in the first race.There was a bit of a chill wind as we walked down the loading zone. This always bodes well for racing as a southerly means less chop on the harbour. A northerly blowing can make things a lot more interesting!
We paddled up to race start and got into position first. Things are more simple on the Fun Day. There are no lane markers put out, and no rope for the drummers to hang on to keep the boats in line. All the same, the tension is there and winning is the goal.
The hooter went and we got off to a reasonable start, but other boats did better and we found ourselves in their wake. No matter, we charged on and surprised ourselves by being consistent and not dropping off the pace at any stage. The Fun Day is a short race - about 320 metres, but it is the first of the season and things and people can be a bit creaky so it was pleasing to see we were up to it. We weren't first  but we weren't last but knew we could do better, and planned to in the next race.
There was a bit of time before our next race so I went and watched a couple of other races get under way.  Some boats shot out in a lather of enthusiasm and burnt themselves ragged in short order. Seasoned teams knew better and paced themselves well, easily winning their heats. Others looked like demented caterpillars drunkenly crawling their way to the finish. Thank goodness there is a month to go to the real regatta. It is always surprising to see how quickly teams improve.

Our next race went better - we got out of the box more speedily, charged down at a steady pace, got pipped at the post and came fourth by a whisker. This was a good effort as there are no divisions for the first half of Fun Day. All teams are randomly pitched against each other - mixed teams, women's teams, school teams, corporate and social.
We strolled back to our tent pleased with ourselves and settled into lunch.

Before we knew it it was warm up time again then back out on the race course. This time we felt we had a chance as we were up against all-women teams. We had a team huddle and talked ourselves through the race. We cruised up the start and positioned ourselves in our lane which was number one. Fortuitous again we thought. We shot off to a great start leaving the others in our wake and held our position. The sweep called power and we dug in a little more right at the end to finish as we started: in front. Yay, a win! Great stuff, we thought, all that practice so far is paying off!

Our turnaround was a little quicker this time for our final race. This was to be a long distance one - two and a half kilometres out to the fountain by Oriental Bay and back. Last year it was around the fountain but evidently one race menaced a swimmer who complained so now we are only allowed to go near the fountain. There were three boats in our race and we set off in at a calm, steady pace. I had the job of calling as well as paddling as our drummer was needed to paddle. Our steady as she goes policy put us third out of three at the turning point but our canny sweep had worked out a cunning plan for a quick turn. She called out for the last three paddlers on the left to hold water while the rest of us dug in deep. That extra effort had us turning on a dime and putting us into second.
They never caught us again and we steadily made our way back not making much distance on the first boat, but not losing much either.
The counting plus paddling caused me to breathe to a certain pattern and I began to get a bit high on the rapid intake of oxygen. I had to control my rate rate to keep that steady pace we needed. In the distance a swimmer cut across our path. 'That swimmer is our target,' I chanted, knowing that he wasn't in any danger. 'Reach, two, three, four, reach, two, three four,'  I called, over and over as the bridge crossing the lagoon got closer and closer. 'Dig, dig, dig!' A blast of the hooter and the cheering of the crowds told us we had arrived at our destination. Second! So cool!
We swept into the lagoon and to the landing in front of the Wellington Rowing sheds. Again we had done better than expected and the whole crew was elated.
A great way to finish the day.

Heading off to the fountain

Shakespeare in the Park

I have been meaning to watch a University of Victoria's production of Shakespeare in the Botanic Gardens for several years now, and last night I finally went to a production of Anthony and Cleopatra with a friend. As there is always a lack of parking we left the car about a kilometre away and enjoyed a walk up Tinakori Road to the Gardens in the twilight.
We set up our little chairs, and relaxed to watch the show. It would have been wise to have brushed up a little on the story beforehand, or bought a programme at least, but I had forgotten my money and had drained that of my friend's, so we had to rely on memory.
Still, it was a pleasant evening and I understood the gist of things. As student productions go, there was fine acting by some (who were not students but seasoned actors) whose every word could be caught, and a range of acting and speaking skills for the rest, who definitely were students. There was some great interaction with the audience and a young boy near us was caught off guard when he was suddenly embraced by Cleopatra. He went pink but was obviously pleased with the attention.
As evening fell the temperature grew cool and we wrapped in a blanket and I pulled on my woolly hat.
The lighting in the trees became more visible and at what seemed exactly the right moments the wind would sigh through the surrounding bush. The Dell is the perfect place to take in a little Shakespeare on a fine night I decided as I relaxed on my camp chair and snacked on a peppermint or two.
During one of Anthony's speeches I heard a friend of mine adding his squawk at opportune moments (or not, depending on your point of view) to the play. Probably Alfie Kaka I thought, adding his own version of events with a rhythmic squark every five seconds. This went on for five minutes until I saw a silhouette of a kaka fly over the audience for a better look before departing the scene.
A morepork then took up the challenge and went through its repertoire of vocalisations before silence reigned once more except for the actors on stage.
They were up to the long process of wordy anguished dying by sword and by asp at this stage, and very soon the last gasp was had, and Julius Caesar had had his last soliloquy, so we packed up and wandered past the darkened rose gardens back to the car.

Takahe Time

Yesterday was my day for feeding the takahe and talking to visitors about them. I went in a little early and weighed out little pottles of 'takahe easi meals'. They have different amounts depending what time of the day it is.
I made my way to the top of the lake, a slow job due to several school groups taking up the path.
I arrived to discover another school group already involved in takahe talks being given by their guide.
The takahe are no fools however and they spotted me and the bag that contains their food. It was not quite time for their lunch so I hid the bag and did not speak as they seem to know my voice. They hung about suspiciously, and finally bit the shoe of the other guide giving the talk, so I gave in and brought the bag into view. Two beady eyed birds with rather sharp and prehistoric beaks glued themselves to my heels as I went to their feeders and put in the food.
Horrors! I had brought the wrong pottle and had short changed them - 12 grams instead of 50. I went to the front of the fence to talk to visitors in the hopes they would not notice. No such luck!  These birds can subitize! They quickly finished their meagre offerings and started harassing me. I finished my talk with two grumpy birds at my heels and a few laughing visitors watching their antics. I excused myself and shot back to the shed to weigh out the rest of their meal and returned out of breath. I went through the process of putting out the correct amount of food watching my fingers as takahe can give a nasty nip as they try to get to their meal.  They have preferred sides at the dinner table (feeding trough) T2 always feeds to the left and Puffin on the right. Just like a long time married couple they have their little ways. They were satisfied with the correct amount of food and left me alone at last as they wandered off  to the lake for a drink.

Guiding

It was another stunning day guiding in Zealandia today. My group were mainly Americans with a scattering of people from Hong Kong. Every tour is different and this group was interested in how the community of Wellington managed to obtain such a asset to its city. I told the story of how the area became decommissioned as a water supply as it was based in a fault line above the city. Once the idea from Jim Lynch to turn it into a bird sanctuary became popular among some, it took a huge amount of work by a dedicated group to bring the city on board.
As this was to be an 'urban island' it would also always be vulnerable to damage if enemies were created. Therefore a policy of 'make no enemies' was created. For example mountain bikers were not happy that they were to be excluded from a place where they were used to playing. The solution was to create a mountain bike and walking path around the perimeter of the fence so this group could still feel included. This group of people also took on board that perhaps they should not only be users of the environment but protectors as well. They went on to  create a new mountain bike park on nearby Makara Mountain, planting native trees and created an environment suitable for bikers and birds alike. The solutions ended up as a win/win situation for everybody.
Some home owners next to the reserve were not keen on a great big ugly fence on their boundary. Again, their concerns were taken on board and the fence was moderated to be as eye pleasing as possible. No electrical fencing or wires were used thus avoiding a 'prison' look to the fence. Once the Sanctuary was up and running, home owners discovered their properties had gone up in value as potential home owners felt that living next to Zealandia would be a bonus. More happy people!
A few people needed to prove they could still go over the fence and enter the sanctuary if they felt like it. This was tolerated and slowly the culture changed till it is now a very rare event.
Paying to experience New Zealand's birds and bush is still a hurdle for many people. It can be too expensive for families who just want a one off visit and there is a lot to see in Wellington for free. Becoming a member is the best way to enjoy Zealandia and I know of many people who give a membership to young families as a wonderful lasting Christmas present. As I point out to people membership for a year is the same cost as a couple of restaurant dinners and the joy lasts a lot longer!

Most overseas tourists are in awe at what we have achieved with our far sighted thinking. For them their one and a half hour tour is never enough. One of the things they often comment on is the freshness of the air - they immediately feel reinvigorated and relaxed at the same time. They love Zealandia's quiet space too. I suppose most come from big cities and find air quality and quiet spaces something to cherish. We Kiwis just take it for granted!

Practice, Practice, Practice

I arrived a little early to dragon boat practice so wandered over to the waterfront to check out the water. The harbour was a hive of activity. There were a lot of kayaks out, hired from Fergs. The weather was warm and the sea flat and novice kayakers were having fun splashing about. The rowing sculls were out in force, the weather perfect for them as they went through their training routine.  Coaches in motor boats shouted instructions at them through megaphones.
Dragon boats with an earlier time slot were already out, their coaches in the main acting as sweeps. They stood on the backs of the boats holding the sweep oar and drilled the paddlers from there.
A group of younger children than usual, around ten to thirteen, were jumping off the diving board into the sea tonight, egged on by their mates. A reluctant one stood for a few minutes gathering courage. He finally jumped in tandem with a friend to great cheers from the gathering crowd.
It is very pleasing to see the harbour embraced by so many different groups. A week earlier I had taken a walk along the Auckland Waterfront. There is a significant degree of separation of people from the water. There are wharves but they are mainly for tying up the myriad of boats. I saw no swimmers, no kayakers, no water sport practices. People were eating in restaurants along the waterfront which looked pleasant but more formal. There is nothing indicating a Polynesian or Maori connection. In Wellington people sprawl out on the steps in front of the Whare Waka's  Karaka Cafe. Two decorated waka or war canoes are on display at a site next door. These are working models that regularly go out on the harbour. Bean bags are scattered on a nearby lawn. Tables and chairs are by the lagoon for those indulging in a coffee or gelato ice.  Today there was an artist's display of outside furniture and there were people gathered, looking at the assortment of arty type furniture to sit on. It makes for a warm and inviting atmosphere especially during summer and people are naturally drawn to the more intimate spaces that abound.

By the time it was our turn to head out the kayaks and rowing sculls had already returned so there was little traffic to dodge as we practised stamina paddling - keeping going the whole practice session. We had periods when we were spelled as others paddled but we had to keep our wits about us to make sure we came back in at the right time and kept in synch with everyone else. No time to observe my surroundings tonight.
As it was low tide getting in and out of the boat on the ramp was difficult as the rubber mats were covered in green algae making the area extremely slippery. We negotiated this hazard well enough with no spills but it can be a worry.
Another hazard are the stingrays that gather in the lagoon to escape larger fish. There seems to be one in particular called Ray Ray who hangs about on the steps and shallows warming himself. Getting out of the boat into the shallow water can need a certain steeling of nerve and prodding about with a paddle before making the attempt!
Safe ashore again with boat put away I made a quick escape to a warm car and hopefully a warm dinner.

Guiding a six Hour French Tour

Yesterday was an interesting one for me as a guide. I had my first big assignment. My job was to show six French tourists plus a translator through Zealandia for six hours.
I made a big effort and welcomed the group in my best French. The group looked decidedly pained but relaxed when it became obvious that I would make use of the translator for the rest of the day.
We spent the first twenty minutes in the exhibition then headed out into the valley. The group were keen walkers and wanted to get into the depths of the valley. They also wanted to see as much of the animal inhabitants as possible and in this respect they were to be in luck.
We started at the gecko cages and for the first time I saw the native forest gecko which had so far remained elusive. They are beautiful little animals with colouring like a tapestry carpet. When I was young we kept them as pets which is illegal now. They were delightful to observe as their patterning is very varied. Being ovoviviparous they give birth to live young, usually a pair.
We continued on to the takahe who were their usual friendly selves, looking like dinners on legs as they poked about near us.
We watched the the kaka and kakariki at their feeding stations, then found a sunny spot to sit and have our own lunch. I was pleased that I could pick up on most of the conversation and one lady sat next to me and conversed in French. Mostly I could keep up. As we sat eating we were harassed by a couple of very demanding ducks. If you kept your eye on them they stayed by your feet but as soon as you looked away they would jump on to your lap and try to nab your sandwich. They had no shame whatsoever and are obviously into taking advantage of unsuspecting bird lovers. Terribly bad mannered!
After wandering out on the upper dam and discussing the merits of keeping water supplies  in earthquake prone fault lines directly above a city, we headed to the Discovery Area where we watched hihi (stitchbirds) and korimako (bellbirds) contentedly using the feeding stations and flitting about the trees. The hihi made their 'tse tse  tse' sound as they flew. The early settlers thought they sounded like their treadle sewing machines hence the name stitch bird.
We then indulged in some concentrated tramping on tracks normally too far in for the time restricted ship tours. They were a group that had stipulated a long walk was to be part of their itinerary so I hoped this fitted the bill. They were a quiet group who did not give a lot of feed back but I hoped they were enjoying themselves as much as I was.
We dropped back via the Round the Lake Track so that we could take in the Swing Bridge. We stopped here a moment to look at the view and discuss what we had seen. We had a basic map with us which also listed the birds and insects we might see. We congratulated ourselves on doing pretty well, then dropped down to the main track again to head home. One eagle eyed tourist spotted a kereru (wood pigeon). This is a stunning bird which has become more common around Wellington in the last few years. They are large glisteny green birds with white fronts and very endearing. Their wings 'squeak' as they fly overhead and when they land on a branch it can be a bit of a clumsy effort. They also get a bit drunk on overripe berries making them crash prone and vulnerable to flying into windows and falling out of trees.
'There are only three birds on the list we have not seen or heard,' I said and almost immediately there were the three species on trees in front of us. A popokatea or whitehead, a piwakawaka or fantail and a tieke or saddleback introduced themselves to the group and hung about for photo opportunities as if I had paid them to turn up and show off.
We then visited the gold mine, a folly of the gold crazy late 1800s. No gold, but lots of cave weta to observe. These French were of a stoic mind, no screaming or stressing for them, they took it all in their stride though I noticed one had a faint sweat on his brow when he reappeared from the mine's entrance.
I got them back to the visitor centre with five minutes to spare. The translator told me they were very happy with the experience and I received a $5 tip which I added to the metallic donations tuatara sculpture.
So - all good!

Here is a list of the wildlife we saw today:
Green gecko
Forest gecko
Pateke (brown teal)
putangitangi (paradise shellduck)
Kawau (pied shag and little black shag)
Papango (scaup)
Tui (parson bird)
Takahe
hihi (stitch bird)
kaka (North Island Parrot)
kakariki (red fronted parakeet)
korimako (bell bird)
toutouwai (North Island Robin)
tuatara (ancient reptile)
kereru (wood pidgeon)
Wellington weta
popokatea (whitehead)
tieke (saddleback)
piwakawaka (fantail)
cave weta

We also heard the little riroriro or grey warbler but did not catch a glimpse.

Here is a link to allow you to see and hear the birds, insects , lizards and reptiles we saw today.http://www.visitzealandia.com/wildlife/birds/

Entertainment of the violent Sort

Our entertainment for this week has been of the violent sort.
First we went to the Michael Fowler Centre to see the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra celebrate the Chinese New Year performing Tan Dun's Martial Arts Trilogy supported by scenes from three classic Martial Arts Films. It was awe inspiring, and a bit gory in places. The little Chinese boy in front of me at times hid his eyes and his mother hid his eyes at times as well.
For me it was very dramatic but as I had never seen any of these films, it was also a bit confusing as warriors dashed about the place, fighting in trees, across deserts and over water with passionate love affairs interspersed with violent deaths.
The orchestra itself was also passionate and quite wonderful to watch especially the percussion who were heavily into their part to play. The Chinese violin has a sound of its own and Tan Dun himself was brilliant to watch as he conducted.

This afternoon we went to watch violence of a different sort. The Medieval Festival at Harcourts Park in Upper Hutt is always worth attending.
As we approached the park we could see an array of tents and pennants and hear music of  medieval persuasion. Among the usual hot dog stands were mead stalls and lots of tents selling swords, armour, and other clothing of the period. I liked the soft leather pointy shoes.
We watched a melee with with two groups in an assortment of armour attacking each other with swords, axes and pikes. After a rapid clashing and bashing most participants ended up on the ground and the one group with a few still standing was the winner... I think. It was extremely hot so it must have been stifling in those metal helms.
Many people in the audience were dressed for the occasion in clothes of the period and it made for a colourful if slightly weird affair.
Next we were entertained by a display of archery using the long bow the type of which helped the English win at Agincourt, the Battle of Crecy etc. They mentioned that 2015 will be the centenary of World War 1,  600 years since Agincourt and and 200 years since Waterloo and that there will be a lot of celebrating in England that year and consequently lots of mock battles.
Next was the most exciting event - jousting. The participants were from New Zealand, Australia and Germany and they looked wonderful on their destriers. Their armour glinted in the sun and one had a giant plume of blue and yellow feathers resembling an exotic type of palm tree on the top of his helm.
Armed with long jousting sticks they rushed at each other and clashed as they passed. A direct hit on their shields gave three points. They had three runs at each other then the points were tallied and the winner would meet the next opponent. Managing a fired up horse plus a jousting stick while loaded down with heavy armour is an art in itself and very exciting to watch. We had managed to get in front so had a good view of hooves as the horses thundered by.
The Austalians were up against each other in the final bout and went at it quite hard, bits of broken jousting stick flying everywhere, horses snorting and pawing, anxious to run again and becoming hard to control. The points were tallied and the winner saluted the crowd before seeking shade under the trees.
The last event was another melee which was a battle between Australians and New Zealanders. This melee seemed to involve a lot of shoulder charging more than bopping each other with swords and axes. They had three attacks at each other before New Zealand was declared the winner and everyone left most satisfied.

The last act of violence in Wellington this weekend was the 20/20 cricket match between the New Zealand Black Caps and England. It was a massacre. New Zealand smeared all over the grass yet again. We did not go to the game so were spared the worst of it, but even listening to it on the radio was not fun. No knights in shining armour here. Our castles were knocked over, our men run out. We were unable to defend our total, our catches did not stick.
What a shambles!

Dragon Boat Practice

Back to Wellington and dragon boat practice, a very different experience to kayaking. Our practice is always in the cool of the evening on the waterfront starting from the lagoon. We do our warm up first with workers and tourists often wandering through the middle of it. I almost swiped an elderly Chinese woman who walked through while looking at the nearby fountain.
For once we were organised and on time, and our boat was already waiting for us on the ramp.
We practised our starts, focusing on reaching, moving our body with the the stroke, and snapping out the paddle between knee and hip. With aggression, aggression, AGRESSION!  
The sweep and the drummer passed a camera on a tripod between them to try and capture what we were up to, good and bad. The rescue boat guys then offered to take over the videoing. Lets hope we were all doing what we were supposed to be doing!
There was noise over at Frank Kitts Park. A rally was being held to show opposition to asset sales.
I tried to use this to up my aggression and started chanting under my breath (no talking in the boat!) to the rhythm of the paddling: Say no to asset sales, say no to asset sales, sell the bloody lot, sell the bloody lot!  Give it away, give it away, keep it here, keep it there, lets be slaves, token knaves, country's riches chucked in ditches...etc etc. Probably by this stage my paddling was all over the show so I put my mind to the task at hand and focused in the boat which is what I was supposed to be doing.
Soon we doing our last race start, continuing into the lagoon and finally off up the ramp. No need to haul the boat up as another team was waiting.
A quick warm down and off home, hungry for food.

Yachting Home

We awoke to a beautiful morning, and set about packing up our gear before a leisurely kayak following the route we took on our first day. We explored the outer edge of a small island off our camp site then  around the edge of our island for a bit. We returned quite quickly with the wind behind us and decided we had time to practise capsizes in a sheltered part of our bay. As the sun was out and the water warm this was no chore. We practised how to tip out of our kayaks and get back in with the help of a paddle float. This intriguing little device turns your kayak into an outrigger. You blow air into one bit and seal it off then insert the paddle into a pocket. Very cool! Once you have righted your kayak you use the paddle, now buoyant, to stabilise the kayak as you insert yourself back into the cockpit.
Ginni then demonstrated how to roll her kayak and pop up again without getting out. She did this several times with great enjoyment, relishing in her dexterity. Lara and I being not so dexterous gave this a miss and and paddled back to shore to have a quick lunch before dismantling our tents.
We sat and discussed how to get us, our kayaks and our equipment on to the yacht. Henrick had used the morning to clean the bottom of the yacht and as we ate we watched him in a wet suit and snorkel repeatedly dive under the boat as he cleaned. We also watched a couple of motor boats towing kids around and around on special rubber tubes. Great fun for them but not so much fun for Henrick. Round and round the yacht they went, creating a wash that made Henrick bounce about, increasing the difficulty of his task as he got thrown into the side of the boat repeatedly.
It was decided we would load the yacht's dinghy with our gear which would be towed out by Ginni, then I would paddle out and help load the gear on the yacht. This involved coming alongside the dinghy, tying up, transferring to the dinghy and from there on to the yacht. A bit of scrambling but I made it, then stowed our equipment as Ginni handed it up to me. We then hauled up the kayaks and secured them on deck. In reasonable time we were all aboard and sailed off towards Paihia. I chose a spot out of the way of swinging booms and busy sailors and settled back to enjoy the ride. The Bay of Islands was busy with boats and charter vessels, fishermen and pleasure seekers. We watched a school of dolphins also being watched by a tourist boat. There were plenty of seabirds - gannets, seagulls, petrels bobbing about on  the ocean, not too interested in fishing it seemed.
When Paihia Beach came into sight we had to reverse the order. First Henrick went off in the dinghy as he had an appointment, with Ginni accompanying him in her kayak. She then towed the dinghy back and we loaded it up to the gunnels as she did not want to do more than one trip as it was hard work in the wind back to the yacht. We lowered our kayaks then lowered ourselves carefully into the dinghy and then into the kayaks.
There was quite a swell onto the beach. I decided to attack full tilt and sailed in without mishap. Quickly we hauled up our kayaks and got ready to help Ginni ashore with the dinghy. All hands make light work and soon all our gear was installed in the waiting van which whisked us back to our accomodation.
What a fun trip! We had barged, kayaked, swam, snorkeled and yachted. We had camped on a beautiful beach and not been swept away by tsunamis  We had eaten well, made new friends and learned about each other's past adventures. I thoroughly recommend giving kayaking a go!

I booked this trip through Bushwise Women: www.bushwise.co.nz
Ginni has her own kayak business in Baja, Mexico: www.seakayakbajamexico.com. She also has a blog: www.kayaktravel.blogspot.com.
Henrick can be found on www.onvoyage.net

Kayaking continued

We woke with camping site intact and tsunami warnings abated.
A walk seemed in order so we climbed the hill behind us making the local sheep anxious and confused as we entered their territory . They baad  and they piddled and they panicked then they got out of our way .
From the top of the hill we had a fine panorama and could see the resort in the next bay. A lamb stew had been dropped off for us there so I volunteered to jog down and pick it up .
The cafe wasn't open so I put my head around the corner and enquired after our lamb stew . Several of the staff looked up and one ambled over to the freezer and handed me a package without a word.
I jogged back to the camp for breakfast safe in the knowledge that dinner was also sorted.
We planned to head further afield today or should I say further asea.
With the wind behind us we made good progress and washed up on an island with a lovely sandy beach for lunch.
Once out of our kayaks we found it was quite windy but we were hungry and lunch was good. We had a bit of a siesta then walked up a hill to an old pa site with incredible views of the Bay of Islands all around.
By the time we wandered back a swim was in order and I donned my wet suit, slid into a rocky cove and went exploring. There were plenty of channels and crevices with brown algae sucking in and out and brushing against me. I snorkelled into a cave. It rapidly got narrow and quite turbulent and though I could see light at the end I did not think I could fit through so oozed myself out again.
Time to head back. Now the wind was against us and progress back was slow. A couple of times the guide threw out tow lines which gave us the incentive to keep up a pace and not let the person in front do all the work.
As we came into our Bay we saw the  double ended, steel hulled ocean going  yacht belonging to our guide's partner.
As there was plenty of lamb stew we invited him over and enjoyed a pleasant evening discussing the travels he and Ginni had undertaken. They were feeling nostalgic as the next day was to be his last day under sail before the yacht was to be hauled up. The need to earn had gained the upper hand and they were preparing to leave the yacht for a year or more and work until their coffers were once more filled.

 We were to have a long days paddling  the next day as it was to be our last and we needed to return to Paihia. We had some wine, watched the sunset and the yacht as it gently rocked at anchor.
'You could always have a ride back on my yacht' mused Henrick.
This idea appealed immediately. We could have a kayak in the morning and a lazy journey back on the yacht. Since we had arrived on a barge, why depart in somewhat the same manner only more styley?
The deal was done and we settled into our tents looking forward to our next day.

Rock hopping..or Not

We woke to a day that promised brilliant sunshine. It was a leisurely start. The wind had changed enabling us to head in the opposite direction around the island.
We practiced rock hopping which involved zipping between rocks through narrow channels. Well, I didn't exactly zip. Being a relative novice, directionaly challenged and not knowing my left from my right meant more trial and error on my part. But it was exhilarating and I began to improve.
We hauled up for lunch on a delightful beach protected from the wind.
It was warm so after lunch we had a snorkel. I love seeing the world below the sea and spent a happy time sliding through the seaweed, annoying fish, diving down to the sea floor and investigating crevices.
Back at the beach we decided to practice a capsize or two since we were already wet. I got the hang of pulling my skirt tag while under the boat and sliding out to the surface . Rolling the kayak over and sliding back in was okay too with Ginni the guide's help.
It was time to rock hop our way back. I watched Ginni slide through a narrow gap. Lara followed and impressively caught a surge of water through.
I followed and also caught a surge but wad not quite parallel with the gap. The nose of the kayak caught on a rock and the current pushed me up on it. Not to panic, I waited for the next surge to help me back off. Alas by this stage I was at right angles to the gap and got wedged. Oh well, tipping out seemed the best option and with the guide I swam the kayak out to a safe place for re entry. Putting my just recently learned skills into practice and help from Ginni I righted the kayak and slid back in . Slightly damper I headed back to the camp with the others  having made the decision not to attempt any more  gaps unless there was room to fit through sideways!
On arrival back we found our fellow campers anxious about reports of a tsunami on the way. An accessable hill behind us looked a good place to perch if things turned dire but in the event it was down graded and we slept easy in our tents .

Urupukpuka Island

Back in the land of the web .
Kayaking off Urupukapuka Island was wonderful. We were a party of three women - the American guide, an  Australian and me.
The weather calmed down enough for us to attempt to reach our camping ground at Cable Bay.
As we loaded our kayaks and dragged them to the beach  a barge came up to the nearby ramp, let down its front and unloaded a tractor. The friendly barge driver asked where we were headed and offered us a lift . Okay we said  and dragged our kayaks on board and away we went. We caused a bit of a stir on arrival and got ribbed as we pulled our kayaks off having not taken one pull on our paddles!
We chose a spot, put up our tents and settled in .
Later to prove we could paddle we went for a poke around one side of the island before coming back for a  meal. The wind was still gusting as we settled in our tents for the night .

Kayaking

I am in the Bay of Islands kayaking .
Yesterday was wet and windy  so we cut our cloth to suit . We headed off after a few lessons and tips out of Opua Harbour into choppy waters then made a right into a cove and paddled up a river, playing about under the mangroves . After we had lunch we continued up a little way where mangroves gave way to bush . We heard fantails, cuckoo, grey warblers and saw welcome swallows and a large harrier hawk.
Making our way back across the harbour in squally conditions was a bit of a test but the distance was not too far. We were to camp but cried off and headed for a house and warm showers and a good dinner instead .

7s Day 2.

Day 2 of the 7s started gingerly with people wandering in late looking frayed about the edges in both demeanor and costume . Cats without tails, smurfs whose blue paint had run, Mexicans whose hats had drooped.
My job to start with was to release other members of our team for coffee breaks. At first it was easy to move about the concourse but after a couple of hours it was as though a switch had been thrown . People poured in and began pouring beer through their systems . It was hard to move in any direction and the noise reached new decibels. All very happy it was though it would not be a good situation if panic set in for some reason. Getting out could be very difficult . I took my place at the bar then decided it was safer on the other side of the counter . The amount of alcohol allowed to be bought was reduced but the queues never diminished . The crowd stayed happy and good humoured thank goodness  but I was glad when the bars shut down and I could make my way home , ears ringing and clothes smelling like a brewery.
Wellington's biggest party over for another year .

Tail End Charlie Time

After my stint at the 7s I shot home for a quick turnaround as I was due in Zealandia for a night tour .
We had a full complement of twelve people from overseas . What a contrast to the 7s ! We were a stealthy group dead set on seeing kiwi in their natural environment and were rewarded for our efforts . We saw kiwi pottering about totally unperturbed by our presence. A tuatara lay across our path reluctant to move .
Tiny Maud Island frogs were visible in their coop .
The stars were out and we pointed out the Southern Cross .
Glow worms competed and created their own starry galaxy along the damp banks .
It was a pleasant interlude before having to return to the 7s next day .

The Rugby sevens Day One

Walking to the  Rugby Sevens to act as Liquor Management at one of the bars to raise money for our dragon boat teams is like walking into some bizarre alternate Wellington which shows its head only for two days of the year. It is when you will see a burly brown tattooed truck driver and ten of his mates wandering down the road wearing pink tutus, fairy wings and carrying sparkly wands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For every other day of the year they would never allow such an assault on their masculinity, and would probably baulk at having to shower and don a suit and tie.
Once established at my proscribed bar having briefed the team selling liquor, I relaxed and enjoyed the hour before the crowds started to roll in. The first people in were there for the rugby games. Their costumes were token - a floral shirt and a wig maybe. The games last 14 minutes and are between countries who have played well enough to be on this years world circuit.
Slowly the quiet murmurings of a few people transformed into a constant discordant roar supported by  a riot of colour and confusion. For most people, rugby is secondary to partying. They walk around the concourse to observe and be observed. Inhibitions are down and bananas cuddle a quantity of sweating teddy - bears (not the smartest costume on a hot day), cave men accost barmaids, Lance Armstrongs wander by with syringes hanging out of their arms and grotesque giant babies waddle by. I find it slightly perturbing the number of young men who choose nappies for their Sevens wear. Those who have fine physiques wear gladiator costumes to show of their muscles glistening in the heat. Girls who want to show their figures dress as barmaids, fitness fiends and movie stars. A large quantity of Adam and Eves go by wearing nothing much except leaves and sun tans. Their exuberance and joie de vivre spill everywhere.
By late afternoon the crowds are getting merry but in the main are behaving themselves. One or two become pains and argumentative and are best ignored. I watch for people trying to find ways to get more than their allotted four beers at a time. I am always astounded at the amount of money people are prepared to spend on alcohol. Others stop to chat and ask what my role is. Someone with no wristband which means no alcohol, angsts over how he can possibly enjoy himself.
I am glad when my replacement arrives a little early and I am free to depart.

The crazy crowds

Out on the concourse

                                                                 Wending my way home