Posted by msblucow on March 04, 2002 at 00:02:28:
Overview:
New Zealand is a long, thin land, similar in size to Colorado. At its widest point, the North Island of New Zealand is 450km across, but no inland point is more than 120km from the sea. Between the North and South islands, New Zealand has over 15,000km of coastline, covering everything from glacier carved fiords to easily accessible, picture perfect subtropical beaches. In a land known more for it’s sheep and green pastures, the country has a very healthy scuba culture and holds quite a few pleasant surprises for the diver willing discover new territory.
The Trip:
January 22nd – February 19th. Three weeks in New Zealand and one week in Fiji.
My husband, Warren, and I eventually settle on a plan to spend three weeks exploring part of the North Island. For the first week, we’ll rent a car and drive north of Auckland so I can dive the Poor Knights Islands and the "Rainbow Warrior" in Matauri Bay. The other two weeks we’ll give up the car and explore the Coromandel Peninsula, a picturesque finger of land about 2 hours east of Auckland, by bicycle. And since our airline, Pacific Air requires a stop in Nadi both to and from Auckland, we’ll add a week in Fiji to ‘recover’ before returning to Los Angeles.
Getting There:
We take the red-eye flight from Los Angeles. With us are two full suitcases (my bike broken down and clothing), a full bike box (Warren’s bike and our camping gear), my scuba gear, and more carry-on luggage than we have a right to take. Except for some minor weight issues regarding Warren’s bike box (which we solve by moving our camping gear into a card board box and taking a charge for extra luggage), we have no problems getting everything on the plane. I was even able to get the guard at the x-ray machine to hand inspect the 40 rolls of film I brought.
(Helpful Hint: I took every roll out their plastic canisters and put them into several plastic zip-lock bags. Once I had cleared security, I simply reloaded the film back into the canisters and put them back in my carry-on luggage. This worked for every security checkpoint. I never once had to put my film through and x-ray machine.)
It takes roughly 20 hours to get from Los Angeles to Auckland. This includes a 10 1/2-hour flight to Nadi, a 7-hour layover (We rent an air-conditioned hotel room next to the airport so we can rest) and a 3-hour flight from Nadi to Auckland. Jetlag is not a factor since Auckland is only 3 hours behind (although a day ahead of) Los Angeles.
From the moment we arrive at the Auckland airport, we know we’re in a country truly set up for travelling. From the helpful people who whisk us through the inspection lines (New Zealand, being both an agricultural country and an island nation, is very serious about contagious diseases and agricultural pests) to the bicycle workstands permanently mounted just outside the building, it’s evident that a great deal of thought has gone into making our experience as trouble free as possible. We’re out of the airport with all our luggage less than an hour after we land.
The Trip:
We spend a couple of days in Auckland then rent a car and drove north to Matauri Bay. Although it’s only about 250km north of Auckland, it takes us most of the day to get there. New Zealand has no highways to speak of, just well maintained 2 lane roads, none of which seem to be in a straight line. So between that and all the site seeing we do along the way (can’t recommend "Sheep World" enough!), it’s almost dark before we pull into Matauri Bay, the resting-place of the "Rainbow Warrior".
About half the size of Santa Monica Bay, Matauri is home to a smattering of islands scattered along a large, crescent shaped coast. The Cavalli Islands, as this grouping is known, range in size from tiny seamounts that barely break the surface to landmasses nearly the size of Santa Barbara Island. I was told that before they sunk the Rainbow Warrior as an artificial reef about 10 years ago, the area was pretty much a locals-only spot, too far out of the way to be of much interest unless you were out hunting "crayfish".
(Side Note: Here’s the thing about Crayfish and Kiwi divers. Crayfish are Bugs. And Kiwi divers are as nuts about their Crayfish as we in California are about our Bugs.)
The Diving:
The next morning, I go and visit the "dive shop" which is located in the campground next to our B&B. The shop consists of a small shack with a compressor out back and what I can only assume is our diveboat out in front. The "Matauri Cat", a fifteen foot open cabin boat, sits on a trailer hooked up to a large farm tractor. Shortly after I get there, the divemaster/boat captain/shop owner arrives with an English couple and a German in tow and starts getting things organized. After about half an hour of handing out equipment and wetsuits, he loads all of us into the back of the boat and tows us out to the beach. He backs the boat into the water and has one of us jump out to point the bow of the boat into the surf while he parks the tractor on the beach. He then runs back to the boat, jumps in and fires up the engines.
It’s only about a 15-minute ride to the Rainbow Warrior, but it’s a spine crushing 15 minutes. The divemaster runs the boat full out, slamming into every swell like his life depends on it. The hull of the boat beats out a steady rhythm – bam-bam-bam-BAM! I’m desperate to stand up, but I’ve got my camera gear with me and I’m afraid that if I let go, it’ll immediately fly overboard. So I just hang on until, finally, the boat thuds to a stop at the mooring buoy. After a short briefing from the divemaster, everyone suits up to go in.
The German and I go in first, followed by the English couple and the divemaster. Going down towards the wreck is an eerie experience. As the boat begins to appear in the distance, I have this weird feeling of déjà vu. The sky is overcast, the visibility is around 40’, and the water temperature is 66 degrees. It’s like I’m diving the Yukon instead of the Rainbow Warrior and I’m in San Diego instead of the Cavalli Islands. As I get closer, I realize that despite the similarities, I’m in a very different place. The wreck sits upright in 80’ of water, completely intact, surrounded by tropical fish you would never find in Southern California. Blue Trevally’s, Red Snapper, Silver Drum, Yellow Demoiselles, Black Angelfish, Technicolor wrasses, puffer fish, and John Dory to name a few. Every surface is covered in strap kelp (a kind of bull kelp), anemones, hydroids and soft corals. I find dozens of colorful nudibrachs to photograph. The highlight of the dive is when I enter the highly accessible wheelhouse and find myself surrounded by thousands of tiny silver bait fish. I imagine that the wreck would be a lot of fun to penetrate further if you were trained for it, but since I wasn’t, I was content to just hang out with my fish friends. It was a completely wonderful dive.
Forty minutes later, we’re on the dive boat getting our asses tenderized. Back at the shop, the divemaster fixes us lunch while we wait out our surface interval; fried egg, ham and ketchup sandwiches (Which actually aren’t nearly as bad as they sound). For our second dive, he suggests one of the outer islands where we might be able to round up some crayfish. The English couple, whose asses have been pounded into submission, demure, but the German and I are game. So out we go again, this time way out towards the edge of the bay, where we find a protected area behind a group of rocks. The water here is only about 20 feet deep and quite murky because of the surge, but I find lots of things to keep me occupied while our divemaster is off bug hunting. My favorite (and I think my best photo of the trip) are two tiny yellow moray eels sharing a hole. They were quite tame and didn’t shy away, even when I approached them with my macro framer. Back on the boat an hour later, the divemaster proudly shows off the two crayfish he’s bagged. Thinking I might discover some great Kiwi recipe for lobster, I ask him how he likes to fix them. He tells me he splits the tails in half and grills them over an open flame. And he bastes them with ketchup (really, I’m not making this up).
The next day, we drive south to the Tutukaka coast, about half way back to Auckland. Tutukaka is a beautiful area with emerald green hills that plunge into translucent blue water. Oak-like pohutakawa trees, gnarled giants that cling to sheer cliffs by vast and tangled roots, frame every view. In December and January these trees catch fire with bright red blooms, earning them the knick name, "New Zealand Christmas Tree".
Tutukaka is the gateway to the Poor Knights Islands, a marine preserve about the size of Anacapa, which lies 24km off the coast. In some of literature I’ve read, the Poor Knights have been a called a world class dive destination, so I’m eager to try them out. Warren and I have arranged to go with Pacific Hideaway, a shop that operates a dive boat out of the Tutukaka marina. The hour-long ride out to the islands couldn’t be more comfortable. Pacific Hideaway’s 45’ catamaran has 2 heads, fresh hot water showers, kayaks for non-divers, hot tea, coffee and soup, and a huge lounge covered in wall-to-wall shag carpet. It’s like hanging out in the set of "That ‘70’s Show".
(Wacky side note: I read that the Poor Knights Islands were named in 1769 by Captain Cook after a popular English breakfast dish – "Poor Knight’s Pudding", otherwise known as French Toast. Seems Cook saw all those pohutakawa trees in bloom on the islands and thought they looked like strawberry jam. Which is what he always had with breakfast. Go figure.)
Both dives of the day are at Aorangi Island, the southernmost of the main Poor Knights Islands. Our first site is at Rikoriko Cave. Rikoriko is actually a cavern, not a cave, but it’s huge, big enough to turn the boat around in. One of the divemasters takes me and an Australian woman, the only two non-students on the boat, down in the first group. We swim out to a vertical wall and drop down to its base at 60 feet. Making our way along, I spot a lot of the same sea life I saw on the Rainbow Warrior, except here there’s a blanket of kelp covering most of the rocks. The kelp here is quite short, topping out at 4’ or so, and very dense. Before going in, the divemaster suggested I look under the canopy for good macro subjects underneath. Sure enough, I find quite a few colorful nudibrachs, demoiselles, lizard fish and even a scorpion fish that literally swims right up and parks himself right in front of me.
Next, the boat moves off to the second dive site, a spot called "The Gardens". I wait out my surface interval by snorkeling around with Warren. It’s a very shallow and protected spot so you can actually see quite a bit from the surface. Warren is thrilled when he spots a free-swimming moray. We also see some huge eagle rays (very close cousins to the bat rays we find in California) and a bunch of Trevallys going after a school of Koheru, silver bait fish that swarm in perfect unison.
On the second dive, the divemaster takes us around in a big circle to explore the area. Instead of a wall, this time we have many rocky reefs to check out. I see and photograph several eagle rays that rest contentedly in the sand. After 45 minutes the other diver signals she’s getting cold (Its 66 degrees! How can she be cold?!), so the divemaster takes her up to the boat. Since we’re right under the boat and the other divemaster is leading a group only a few feet away, I decide to hang out a bit longer and use up my film. Again, I can’t get over how similar the environment is here compared to California. Kelp, bat rays, moray eels, scorpion fish, nudibrachs, wrasses that look like female sheephead, even bugs. Then a Pink Maomao, a tiny neon-pink fish that looks a lot a like an anthias, swims by and pretty much blows that theory.
My last dive in New Zealand happens about a week later, more or less by accident, while we’re in the middle of our bike tour. When we depart Auckland to start our ride, we leave everything behind except for what we’ll need for the next couple of weeks. But I find room for my prescription mask and dive watch in case I want to do some snorkeling. After a few days of grinding our way up and down the hills of the Coromandel Peninsula, Warren and I decide to take a break at Hahei, a gorgeous beach town that borders the Cathedral Cove Marine Preserve.
Hahei has a lovely white sand beach that backs up to some really dramatic limestone and pumice cliffs. You can hike out to several secluded coves including Cathedral, a cove named for a huge limestone arch carved completely through one of the cliffs. Down the road, there’s Hot Water Beach, where at low tide you can dig holes in the sand and enjoy your own personal thermal pool. All in all not a bad place to hang out for a few days.
After a while, we decide to break up the sunbathing/swimming/reading/eating routine a bit by going out on a snorkeling trip. As it happens, everyone else on the boat is diving but us. Warren must have caught me looking longingly at some tanks, because he insists I go out diving with the group. I’m a little dubious about renting gear, but it’s only for one dive, so how bad could it be? As it turns out, their rental gear is quite good, but it’s still not the same as having my own stuff. Nothing fits quite right, especially the wetsuit.
We do the tow-the-boat-out-into-the-surf routine and head out to a group of dramatic looking rocks about a half-mile off shore. While Warren goes off snorkeling, I buddy up with an Italian who’s been touring the country by motorcycle. We agree to circle around one of the seamounts to minimize the need for navigation. Once in, there’s a fair amount of surge, which cuts the visibility down to about 20’. As we swim around the seamount, I realize I’m completely overweighted. At the surface the ill-fitting wetsuit had trapped air pockets that were now being squeezed out at depth, making me struggle to keep neutral buoyancy. It’s more annoying than dangerous, but the experience has erased any doubts I might have had about lugging around my own dive gear.
About half way through the dive I come across a crevice full of bugs. There must have been at least six of them, all sitting placidly more or less out in the open. When I reach out to touch one, it actually holds still enough to let me stroke one of its antennae. Now, I’ve got a real conflict here. Basically, I’ve got lunch for the entire boat sitting in front of me. But:
A) I don’t know if we’re in the marine park or just outside it.
B) I don’t know what, if any, size or bag limits there are.
C) I don’t know if I need a license and
D) I don’t have any way to carry them back to the boat.
So I do the prudent (and frustrating) thing and leave them alone. Of course when I return to the boat, I learn that no, we’re not in the marine park and yes, I could have grabbed them without a license. Better luck next trip.
In conclusion:
1) If you enjoy diving in California, you’ll love New Zealand. It’s the same kind of temperate water diving we enjoy here, with the same equipment and thermal requirements. I dove with a SS Halcyon backplate, 36-lb. wing, ABS integrated weight pouches, a full 5mm suit with a 5mm hooded shorty, and gloves. I saw other divers without hoods or gloves, but with the water temperatures hovering around the mid ‘60’s, I found I was happier with both. Around the South Island, I understand that the water temperatures rarely get past the ‘50’s and can be much colder in the winter, so dress accordingly.
2) Is it worth going half way around the world to dive an ecosystem so similar? Yes! New Zealand doesn’t have the population and pollution pressures we do here. Additionally, the country has many marine parks and preserves, which means the fish populations are quite healthy and diverse. I saw schools of fish bigger than anything I’ve experienced in Southern California, even in the protected waters around the oil rigs. The water quality was excellent and the clarity was usually comparable to a good summer day around Catalina. During the New Zealand winter season (March – October), the visibility can top a hundred feet.
3) New Zealand is dirt cheap once you get there. Currently a New Zealand dollar is worth around 40 cents US. Typically, a high end B&B didn’t cost us more than $60US a night and dinner for two, including wine, rarely cost over $40US.
4) If you get tired of diving, there’s always the scenery, polite and friendly people, beaches, kayaking, hot springs, mountain climbing, bungee-jumping, geysers, glow worms, Maori culture, cycling, hiking, water skiing, spelunking, white water and black water rafting to keep you busy
Next: Part II – FIJI!