new surf dialogue

On the search, shaka fresh

camped out at the Waihi Beach car park

Full speed ahead as we pull out of Auckland with the sunrise and patchy rain clouds. The city quickly turns to farm land, the Southern Highway a blur buzz of cows and sheep, maize and turned up top soil. Up and around the hills and curves and rivers of the south Coromandel peninsula to Whangamata on the east coast, I figure out the gearing of our Mitsubishi camper, and hope the black smoke doesn’t pour out of the exhaust anymore than while we trudge up the inclines that stress out the old diesel engine sitting under the co-pilots chair. At Whangamata, the famed harbor bar isn’t producing any peaks, but Crista and I stroll the beach, stretch our legs and poke at the jellies washed up along the white sand sea line. We continue to cruise, on the left hand side of the road, and trade big ohhs and ahhhs and toothy grins as we round the corners and feast on another eyeful of New Zealand landscape. Only hours into our four month road trip and we are impressed with the sights and smells and the people who aren’t afraid to smile and wave as we pass them by.

Further south, we park it at Waihi Beach. We camp out at the beach car park for free for two nights. The surf is small, but fun, and the locals friendly and helpful. The ocean is full of jellyfish, both big meaty ones that drift into shore with the tidal ebbs and flows, and millions of little jelly tubes and spirals that make the water a soupy concoction that I stir up with every paddle.

The roadside fruit stands are keeping our vitamin C intake up at peak levels. Although finding fresh fish to cook up on the beach is nearly impossible. When we asked at the bakery where a fresh fillet (pronounced ‘fill it’) could be found, the guy behind the counter answered, “I reckon down on the beach with a fishing pole.” So we had pasta for dinner, and dreamt of the squid tubes and kumara root we had the night before.

We took a hike toward Homunga Bay in search of better waves and new horizon view points. The trail stomp vistas were awesome, but the surf was hiding. We hiked back out, packed up and put the Zorro Blanco back into gear.