I have often driven off-road. Especially in New Zealand with its approx. 40 % gravel roads, it is often unavoidable. Even on sand you are not insured according to your hire car contract. The day before, kite instructor Leslie said that the tides would allow us to drive on 90 Mile Beach between 8am and 6pm. We pack up our camp and set off at 10am.
The tide is quite high and the beach is only 20 metres wide. Unfortunately, I only realise that these 20 metres are already completely filled with water when we get stuck. We get out and immediately realise from the 20 cm deep tyres sunk into the very muddy sand that there is no way forward for the time being. Lesson learnt today: never trust a kite instructor with the tides!
Even in extreme situations, I’m usually quite sober and calm. However, when the first wave of the wild Tasman Sea washes 30 cm high around our feet immediately after we get out and splashes into the open car, I have to register a relatively drastic loss of containment. I just start screaming. We unload our car in panic. Every further wave digs the wheels in deeper.
Is the tide still rising? Is our Nissan Pulsar also authorised as an amphibious vehicle? Does it have a free-swimmer licence or at least a saltwater-resistant interior? Questions upon questions. The highest tide line is clearly visible, barely a metre above our car. My mobile phone has no reception, so I make a panicked emergency call to Leslie’s voicemail with Ulis. Then it started to rain, so there are no pictures of the best waves. All we can do is sit quietly on our luggage wrapped under the tarpaulin and pray: “The tide is high but I’m holding on…”
It helps. We really have survived the high tide! After a good hour, a Kiwi with a jeep comes by. The five of us dig out the car and push it for the last few metres on dry ground. After a second breakfast and several cups of soothing tea, we’ve had enough of the adventure for now. We won’t be driving the remaining 45 kilometres to Cape Reinga in the north on the beach after all. On the way to the next descent from 90 Mile Beach, we dig in and out a few more times, pushing and hoping. After that, civilisation and especially tarmac roads no longer seem so pointless.
The steering wheel vibrates a lot. A car wash – this time with conventional fresh water – removes a few kilos of sand from each wheel. Then we can continue straight on northwards again. The last few kilometres to Cape Reinga are now asphalted. Fine. The wind picks up at the gigantic sand dunes of Te Puki. Hiring another sandboard would be great, but the fat Maori renting it out talks about a “no share policy”, so we save ourselves the equivalent of two days’ hire for a few minutes on three plastic boards.
The wind has shifted to the east. So on the way back we quickly check out the east side of Far North in Henderson’s Bay. Again: endless expanses, big waves, strong winds. But unfortunately not enough time for a second kite session. Leslie has invited us to his surf party in Ahipari. We arrive and are immediately in the thick of it: surfers from all over the world, plenty of alcohol and a real wood-fired pizza oven. Leslie conjures up the best pizza I’ve ever eaten.
The Swiss complain that the food is much more expensive than at home, even in the supermarket. Danes add alcohol to the analysis. Only a few German Siemensians with a Toyota Hilux continue to drink noisily. The party gets long and loud. I am amazed at the tolerance of the neighbours. These parties take place here every week. Leslie’s answer to my question: “We feed them.” He is less squeamish about his house opossum in the tree next to our campsite. Only the shooter’s alcohol consumption saved it from the harpoon the day before.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.