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When Tony Foster’s aluminum skiff
slammed across the wake of a fast-moving powerboat, I wished I were wearing a
mouth guard. Tony had the 90hp Honda outboard wound up, and his little metal
cruiser hydroplaned the extraordinary deep turquoise waters of placid Whangaroa
Harbour on a perfect late-summer’s day in early March. |
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has lots of managing to do in his one-man wilderness experience. |
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Among other responsibilities, Tony is an expert trekking guide. We’d just come out of the New Zealand bush, crossing through the mountainous rain forest of Northland’s convoluted Pacific coast from Whangaroa Harbour’s broad interior to one of its secret, fjord-like arms. Along the way, Tony served up a remarkably complete course in New Zealand history, geology, botany, and native Maori culture. The trail had been good, but occasionally steep, and a little muddy, with plenty of mountain streams to cross along the way. I was glad I wore hiking boots for the rugged terrain, but there were cascading brooks, several waterfalls, and, at the walk's end, an empty beach |
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that invited barefoot
walking. The crossing didn’t require great fitness, any more than it
required much time. The three and a half miles of walking was anything
but flat, but easily accomplished in about 4 hours, even with many stops
for Tony’s commentary, refreshments,
and assorted detours for exploring historical sites, climbing to vistas,
visiting waterfalls, and, finally, for wading or swimming at the beach
by Lane Cove. |
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the rainforest and follows the Wairakau Stream down to its entry into a remote western arm of the harbor. The rainforest here is a rare remnant of Northland’s original coastal ecosystem: mixed conifers, broadleaf trees, and the mighty Kauri: tall, thick, primitive hardwood conifers trees that brought shipwrights and lumbermen to Northland. These broccoli-shaped giants have been cut almost to the point of extinction over the last two centuries: whaling ships used kauri to refit their masts and spars; European colonists built their towns with kauri and exported it throughout the world. The kauri-rich forests of Northland brought the first European settlers to New Zealand and the inevitable conflict with the region’s native Maori tribes. Tony — who earned a bachelor’s degree in botany for his former career as a high school science teacher — loves to teach walkers about the flora and fauna of the coastal rainforest. Tony’s background in Northland’s natural history is complimented by his enthusiasm for its social and political history. Having lived in these parts for more than eighteen years, Tony considers himself a local boy now. Whatever worldly prejudices he brought with him |
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when he first came to this part of New Zealand are now long gone, and replaced with a full-blown set of local attitudes and beliefs:
• Hard work earns a subsistence living
at best along
Northland’s |
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Oh, yes, the Maori. Tony, by his own
account, feels a keen appreciation of the Polynesian colonists of New Zealand
now that he has lived two decades in this isolated corner of Northland. Tony
shows walkers where Maori tribes lived, worshipped and fought against other
Maori and white invaders. |
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When we popped out of the rainforest at Lane Cove our boat was waiting, but I wished we had time for a swim and a climb up the steep volcanic promontory called Duke’s Nose. But Tony had other plans for me. He wanted me to experience the harbor by boat, so I clambered aboard. We began with a look at the cove with its high cliffs covered with native podocarps and other native trees. I could just make out the sloping route we followed down to the beach from the saddle pass. The jungle looked like the perfect place for snakes and jaguars, but because this is New Zealand, we saw and heard only birds — but not the rare, nocturnal national symbol of the country: the kiwi, that Tony assured me lived in the neighborhood. |
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As we left Lane Cove and entered the more open waters of Pekapeka Bay the jagged formations of volcanic headlands rimmed the horizon like something out of Jurassic Park. This amazing scenery was all ours — almost. Moored in the middle of the bay was a solitary houseboat. Tony’s steered directly for it, slowing up and coming alongside to shouted greetings from the young couple aboard. It was one of Tony’s rentals with a young couple from Auckland out on a long weekend in paradise. My wife was back in Philadelphia, and I suddenly wished she were here. Tony said he checks up on his |
| houseboat rentals almost every day, making sure they haven’t sunk, and that the customers would be bringing them back in on time. |
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Time. That’s what I didn’t have enough of. Nor Tony. Still, he raced me around Whangaroa Harbour to give me a quick look at the boat tour his walkers get after reaching Lane Cove. The harbor was — and I hate using this overused staple of threadbare travelogues — stunning. Except for the part where Tony crossed the wake of that fishing boat at speed and I almost broke my teeth. |
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EPILOGUE: Tony had me back to the pier at Totara North where I had left my car by shortly after noon. I helped him moor his boat, then I hopped in my car for my next stop, a locally famous fish restaurant on the waterfront at the small, charming village of Mangonui, about 20 minutes north. The Mangonui Fish Shop had just what I was looking for after a fast morning in the jungle and on the water: delicious fish and chips, supersized. Great food, lovely setting, friendly service, no crowds, and inexpensive. |
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YOUR DREAM TRIP BEGINS BY CONTACTING |
