Surfing New Zealand

By David Hitchens

Remote. I love New Zealand, but if you asked me for one word to describe it, that would be it. A long way from anywhere, except Australia, which itself feels like the edge of the planet sometimes. But that is part of its charm. If I ever rob a bank - I'm going to go hide in New Zealand.

New Zealand line up

Quick reminder of how I got here. Oz was a little disappointing to be honest. We were there 6 weeks and I only surfed on seven or eight days. Granted, two of those days were both in the top five surfs of my life but still, I lost my tan and all those pies were not doing the fitness regime any good. Apart from epic WA, South Australia was windy, cold and blown out. Bells Beach and Winkipop were offshore but tiny, and I didn't even get in. East of Melbourne was windy and cold, and the South Coast of NSW was beautiful, but lacking in juice. I did almost land my first ever genuine air though. I have never really tried them, but three straight weeks of knee knockers got the creative energy flowing.

So its August and we are in New Zealand. I haven't surfed yet because we are on our way down to the snow. I saw surfers yesterday. I wish I had taken a photo. It was just north of Kaikoura on the east coast of the South Island. It's a moody, brooding place, with rugged snow covered mountains crowding up to the grey, shifting ocean. The surf wasn't bad, but it was sleeting and I've only got a 3/2. I was happy watching from our brand new 20 year old Toyota Corolla station wagon. It is amazing - everything works! The heater is better than my nearly new car back home. It is rear wheel drive though, and the back has got a habit of skidding out on everything but bone dry asphalt. Its fun to drive like its fun to bungee jump. The couple we bought it from called her Bertha, and the name has stuck.

I like snowboarding, but to be honest I think I got into it because it reminded me of surfing. It feels a little mechanical sometimes, even if you hike up a ridge somewhere and score some powder, you are still strapping on your board and sliding down a great big immovable object. If I had to choose between snow and the ever-changing ocean, we all know what it would be. And anyway, all that hardware and lift tickets are expensive!

(Jump forward a few months) I wrote this much in my diary. A few days later we got the phone call that my mother had been diagnosed with throat cancer. We got the next flight back home and spent the next three months looking after her while she went through chemo and radiation treatment. My mother is one strong and stubborn little lady. If I didn't know it before, then I certainly know it now. She beat the cancer, and as I write this, it is seven months later and she has just left New Zealand where she came out to backpack for three weeks to visit us.

When she first got the all-clear we didn't really know what to do - it was November, and if we had stuck to our original plan, we would have been settling back into our lives, our six month trip over and done. We had spent the rest of our money flying back to where my mum lives, but the last thing we wanted to do was go home - it didn't feel right, and there was still so much more we wanted to see and do. The dream lefts of New Zealand and Bali - the dream beaches of Thailand. My father came through for us. He recently sold his business and was setting up to retire. He paid for us to fly back to New Zealand with a little spending money. We figured we would spend the rest of the New Zealand summer working and saving and then hit Bali right at the beginning of the wave season. If we ran out of money, we could always fly home early, but I was praying it wouldn't come to that.

I shouldn't have worried - we had work thrown at us in New Zealand. We worked on a sheep farm, we picked apples, but best of all we spent two months working in a little holiday town on the Coromandel Peninsula. Rach worked as a chamber maid at a luxury lodge, and as a waitress at night. I worked behind the bar and gave windsurfing lessons during the day. I wouldn't want to get any of our employers in trouble, but I'll say this - not having a work visa isn't a huge barrier to making money in New Zealand, as long as you are willing to get your hands dirty and do the hard stuff.

We saved enough that we could take the whole of March to travel around the North Island before we headed to Bali in April. We headed straight to the dream lefts of Raglan. With time on our side, we waited for a good swell and I was in the water at first light for three days in a row, making the most of it before the crowds arrived - and arrive they did. The three main sections are effectively three different surf spots. Indicators at the top of the point, then Whale Bay, then Manu Bay. They NEVER link up, and the photos that you see are probably of Indicators breaking down towards Whale Bay. Each is still a long, quality wave in its own right. Indicators is my favourite - long, super-fun and rippable, with fast and hollow sections and wrapping along a scenic Maori reserve with amazing natural bush reaching down to the rocky shore. Because it so long, it breaks the crowd up, especially as wide waves are common. These close out at the top of the point, but offer amazing rides for anyone further down. The best thing is that it still works in a cross-shore or even onshore wind - so you can have a good surf on most days. The water was chilly, my steamer was just right and I figured those long paddles up the point were just the training I needed for Indo.

Talking of long paddles, I have to mention two of my most memorable surfs in New Zealand. With my mum in tow, we headed up to the north of the north island. The Bay of Islands is the incredibly scenic area to the north east of the island. You have probably seen the pictures and postcards, calm azure water, sunny skies, snorkelling and boat trips amongst idyllic islands and bays - except not in Hurricane season. The storm was way to the north, lambasting the Samoan islands, but it sent HUGE swells down to the east coast of the country. The calm, azure water was brown and raging, with the tourist boats getting bashed against each other and the pier.
There were waves breaking in places that only break every couple of years. I had a great surf at a rocky peak just off from the place where the Treaty of Whaitangi was signed - the first treaty between the Maori and the white settlers. Bemused tourists watched us from the manicured lawns, ripping up the fun head-high waves that had made it through the myriad of islands to break on the doorstep of the most sacred place in modern New Zealand history.

The other surf was a few days later when we did a day trip up to 90 Mile Beach. I took my board as an afterthought, as I had never heard of surf this far up. Ninety Mile Beach was a very long beach, as you would imagine. There was a solid groundswell running, but the south wind was side-shore, and it was effectively a 90 mile close out.

We headed south towards a place that was called Shipwreck Bay on the map. From the angle of the coast it looked like the wind was offshore there - although I was doubtful that the swell would be able to bend around enough to make it into the bay. I was right and wrong. From the top of the hill, the waves looked epic - like Bruce's Beauties the wrong way around. When we got down to the beach it was smaller than it looked, but still super fun, hollow and fast - with just two longboarders on it. I was champing at the bit to join them.

I was just trotting down with my 6'2" when a 4x4 came down the beach. It was the local policeman, who drove up to me and looked me up and down. I was a bit nervous until I noticed that he had a board in the back of the truck.

"You wanna surf some real waves?", he asked.

I jumped in, and we rattled along the rocks at the side of the bay, round the corner and further up the point. It got bigger and bigger, and in the distance I could see the spray flying off the back of a solid 6 foot set. We eventually got to another sandy beach where there were two or three other trucks parked up, with a couple of ladies sunbathing.

It was firing - it looked like those pictures of Impossibles in Bali - like the waves went on forever. I followed my new law-enforcing friend out through the rocky channel and into the line-up. They were the longest waves of my life. Not as intense as J-Bay, but longer, and they were lefts after all, which are always welcome. The crowd peaked at about 8 guys, which was hardly any with all the waves to be had. At one point the wind dropped off altogether, and it got glassy and green. Rach and my mum had walked down the point and if they hadn't been there I would have stayed in all day. Three hours was pushing family relations a bit!

So that was New Zealand. I'm sitting Sydney airport right now, waiting for our flight to Bali. I haven't been this excited since the first time I saw an all-you-can-eat buffet . I know its going be crowded - I know there is the third world stress factor, and I know that Bali is fairly tame compared to real Indo feral trips - but I don't care - I've been gawking at pictures of Uluwatu and Padang Padang since I was tall enough to reach the middle shelf at the magazine shop. I don't care if I have to fight my way through a herd of surf tourists, or throw myself into close outs that no-one else wants. I'm going to get barrelled - just try and stop me!

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