New posts (as well as the old) will all appear on this site, from now on:
http://suptournz.wordpress.com/
Cheers,
T
Sunday 16 March 2014
Friday 14 March 2014
The Paddle Length Debate
It's a heated debate. Well, as heated as it gets for the relatively chilled out sport, but this does seems to divide the groups. The age-old test is that you stick your arm above your head and if you can rest the top of your wrist on the paddle handle comfortably, that's a good starting point. It's the length it'll be cut to if you buy one from a store.
Of course, depending on discipline, paddle length will differ; surfing requires a shorter paddle than racing or touring, so for the sake of clarity, I'm focusing on the racing side.
Anyway, it seems as though a change in trends is happening, with racing paddles getting shorter by the week. The new theory, one which I admit I am partial to, is that a shorter paddle forces you to reach more, so that you have to use correct technique to get anywhere, fast. If you have a longer paddle, you don't have to move as much, but you also short out on power.
There isn't really a consensus on what length the paddle should be, as there is so much variation with ability. I've heard varying theories, ranging from, "the paddle should be no taller than head height," to, "Every six months, cut up to an inch off". Obviously, there's a point where equilibrium is reached and any shorter will hinder performance, which is why it is always good change length incrementally. A small amount makes a huge difference. It makes sense to shorten the paddle as your own technique improves and you get more efficient. When to stop, I don't know and I think it would differ from person to person. Keep in mind any injuries or lack of mobility - if you can't extend your hips or back properly, you'd need a longer paddle than if you didn't. It all comes down to personal ability, but just remember that you can take away, but you can't add!
A bit of science:
Paddleboarding is a great work out, because it uses so many muscles frequently. Correct technique requires you to have bent knees, much like a skiing pose, for core stability, allowing you get more power from each stroke. True, you will feel the burn in your quads, but you'll be travelling far more efficiently!
Sidenote: Ever get sore or tingly feet while paddling? It's probably because you've been balancing with your feet, rather than with your quads.
Secondly, you want to use your bigger muscles to draw strength from. They are stronger and have more mitochondria (respiration happens here), so they can last longer as well as provide more power. Your shoulders and biceps/triceps are strong, but not as strong as your back muscles. If you only use your arms to pull you along, you'll get tired quickly. If you extend and use your back in conjunction with arms, you'll get heaps more power and individual muscles won't burn out so quick.
So, that's where the technique comes from - parallel, bent knees, bending at the hips as you reach far forward with the paddle and then recoiling as you stand up, for an extra shove. Doing so continuously provides a nice rhythm, but also builds up a heck of a speed! This clip of Annabel Anderson shows the technique beautifully.
Of course, depending on discipline, paddle length will differ; surfing requires a shorter paddle than racing or touring, so for the sake of clarity, I'm focusing on the racing side.
Anyway, it seems as though a change in trends is happening, with racing paddles getting shorter by the week. The new theory, one which I admit I am partial to, is that a shorter paddle forces you to reach more, so that you have to use correct technique to get anywhere, fast. If you have a longer paddle, you don't have to move as much, but you also short out on power.
There isn't really a consensus on what length the paddle should be, as there is so much variation with ability. I've heard varying theories, ranging from, "the paddle should be no taller than head height," to, "Every six months, cut up to an inch off". Obviously, there's a point where equilibrium is reached and any shorter will hinder performance, which is why it is always good change length incrementally. A small amount makes a huge difference. It makes sense to shorten the paddle as your own technique improves and you get more efficient. When to stop, I don't know and I think it would differ from person to person. Keep in mind any injuries or lack of mobility - if you can't extend your hips or back properly, you'd need a longer paddle than if you didn't. It all comes down to personal ability, but just remember that you can take away, but you can't add!
A bit of science:
Paddleboarding is a great work out, because it uses so many muscles frequently. Correct technique requires you to have bent knees, much like a skiing pose, for core stability, allowing you get more power from each stroke. True, you will feel the burn in your quads, but you'll be travelling far more efficiently!
Sidenote: Ever get sore or tingly feet while paddling? It's probably because you've been balancing with your feet, rather than with your quads.
Secondly, you want to use your bigger muscles to draw strength from. They are stronger and have more mitochondria (respiration happens here), so they can last longer as well as provide more power. Your shoulders and biceps/triceps are strong, but not as strong as your back muscles. If you only use your arms to pull you along, you'll get tired quickly. If you extend and use your back in conjunction with arms, you'll get heaps more power and individual muscles won't burn out so quick.
So, that's where the technique comes from - parallel, bent knees, bending at the hips as you reach far forward with the paddle and then recoiling as you stand up, for an extra shove. Doing so continuously provides a nice rhythm, but also builds up a heck of a speed! This clip of Annabel Anderson shows the technique beautifully.
Lake Tikitapu, Rotorua
Crickey, I've been slack recently. I've been meaning to write this for about a month and a half now, but considering my hugely niche audience of, well, me, I figure it's not such a great loss.
I was intending to check out some more of the lakes in Rotorua, but storms hit and we had to leave early. C'est la vie.
Tikitapu, the blue lake in Rotorua is renowned for it's crystal clear waters that are an unusually vibrant shade of blue, much like a sodalite crystal. It's a small fresh water lake surrounded by lush evergreen hills in the throes of no cell phone reception with the exception of Telecom in some areas.
However, you won't want to be attached to your phone or near the Wi-fi while you're here, especially if you're used to the big city-scapes.
A serene setting, with the exception of the jet-skiiers, who seem to shatter the zen-like tranquility with exuberant ignorance. My distaste for jetskis aside, this is an excellent place to paddle, day or night.
The sun shrinking away over the hills, leaving us to put the tent up in darkness. Why we chose an 8 man tent for three people, I'll never know. We managed to put it up with little difficulty, all choosing our own specialisations: The engineering student constructing the poles and placing them in the needed places with careful precision; the paramedicine student holding things up and checking for tent rips and me, the information systems student jamming the tent pegs into the ground with such chaotic brutality, it all seemed to work beautifully.
A mere few metres from the lake, my excitement to paddle on it could hardly be contained, especially seeing as the weather had appeared to hold out. Only, I had thought too soon. Rain pelted us all night, but thankfully the freakishly large tent kept as dry and warm.
About 6am, it's drizzling and I figure that's as good as the weather is going to get. Without disturbing the others, I grab my gear and go out for an early morning paddle. The beach isn't the most inviting out there, as it jabs and stabs your feet, but the minor annoyance is worth it for the paddle.
When facing away from the campsite, looking directly at the lake, everything is so natural and unspoiled, save for a few buoys on the water.
A bit disconcerting, though are these really rusty old pipes that lead from the beach right into the water. No doubt they are safe and not leaky, but they aren't the most aesthetic.
I couldn't tell whether the sun had risen as it was light enough, but this dense fog had settled amongst the trees, creating an eerie Cabin in the woods type feel. It was mysterious and so quiet. Brilliant.
The water was cold, far colder than the sea, and it gets very deep very quickly. You don't quite notice it, but then you're 4 metres or so out and you're up to your neck in refreshingly frigid water (if you're as short as I am). On my first lap, I looked mainly around at the trees; near the shore, palms and tropical type plants, all a vibrant green, which, as your eye skirts further up the hills, transcends to a deep, chlorophyll rich hue of the evergreens.
The fog, completely blanching out some nearby hills and fading others, gradually shifting around and clearing to reveal a glorious grey sky, threatening more rain.
I've never seen such flat water, it's a cliche indeed, but the water was glass. Untouched, unrippled, static, but not stagnant. With no wind and no tides, paddling around felt frictionless, though I did notice a current that got stronger, pulling you away from the beach, the further you went out. Nothing that couldn't be handled while swimming, though. The low resistance from the water and negligible wind would make this an excellent place to train for races and beating personal records. I found that without constant cross-waves and boat wake to contend with, I was able to focus solely on technique, which was a refreshing bonus.
Paddling back to shore and out again, I noticed this time, the change in underwater scenery. Starting off with the volcanic shale-like beach, to some ominously dark plants, almost black in colour. So deep under that it took a while to be able to differentiate the dark mass and identify it as plant. Then, without warning, these plants disappear into rich blue and that's all you ever see from then on. It's a bit disconcerting at first, as it's like looking down into a solid wall of colour, with no definition, debris, anything. Just blue. I stuck my paddle completely under water as a depth test and found that it was very hard to see the end of it, which was very peculiar, but intriguing nonetheless.
So serene, no sounds but that of the birds and the awakening cicadas. The gentle lapping of water as my board glides through the water. Then the sound of a raspy engine, screams, hooligans? No, just jetskiiers enjoying the last of the summer holidays. Blisteringly shattering the slumber of this previously unfettered lake.
It's worth a trip to paddle on and it's great to explore with a few others. Watch for the boats and jetskis and also for the swimmers. There are areas for swimming only, but as long as you're vigilent, it's okay to paddle. I'd be wary of going into the boating area, just as they do seem to come out of nowhere.
It's the only freshwater I've paddled on and it was awesome. A different feel to salt water, you do notice the slight lack of buoyancy while swimming and even on the board, but you adapt pretty quickly.
I hope to return there, soon.
I was intending to check out some more of the lakes in Rotorua, but storms hit and we had to leave early. C'est la vie.
Tikitapu, the blue lake in Rotorua is renowned for it's crystal clear waters that are an unusually vibrant shade of blue, much like a sodalite crystal. It's a small fresh water lake surrounded by lush evergreen hills in the throes of no cell phone reception with the exception of Telecom in some areas.
However, you won't want to be attached to your phone or near the Wi-fi while you're here, especially if you're used to the big city-scapes.
A serene setting, with the exception of the jet-skiiers, who seem to shatter the zen-like tranquility with exuberant ignorance. My distaste for jetskis aside, this is an excellent place to paddle, day or night.
The sun shrinking away over the hills, leaving us to put the tent up in darkness. Why we chose an 8 man tent for three people, I'll never know. We managed to put it up with little difficulty, all choosing our own specialisations: The engineering student constructing the poles and placing them in the needed places with careful precision; the paramedicine student holding things up and checking for tent rips and me, the information systems student jamming the tent pegs into the ground with such chaotic brutality, it all seemed to work beautifully.
A mere few metres from the lake, my excitement to paddle on it could hardly be contained, especially seeing as the weather had appeared to hold out. Only, I had thought too soon. Rain pelted us all night, but thankfully the freakishly large tent kept as dry and warm.
About 6am, it's drizzling and I figure that's as good as the weather is going to get. Without disturbing the others, I grab my gear and go out for an early morning paddle. The beach isn't the most inviting out there, as it jabs and stabs your feet, but the minor annoyance is worth it for the paddle.
When facing away from the campsite, looking directly at the lake, everything is so natural and unspoiled, save for a few buoys on the water.
A bit disconcerting, though are these really rusty old pipes that lead from the beach right into the water. No doubt they are safe and not leaky, but they aren't the most aesthetic.
I couldn't tell whether the sun had risen as it was light enough, but this dense fog had settled amongst the trees, creating an eerie Cabin in the woods type feel. It was mysterious and so quiet. Brilliant.
The water was cold, far colder than the sea, and it gets very deep very quickly. You don't quite notice it, but then you're 4 metres or so out and you're up to your neck in refreshingly frigid water (if you're as short as I am). On my first lap, I looked mainly around at the trees; near the shore, palms and tropical type plants, all a vibrant green, which, as your eye skirts further up the hills, transcends to a deep, chlorophyll rich hue of the evergreens.
The fog, completely blanching out some nearby hills and fading others, gradually shifting around and clearing to reveal a glorious grey sky, threatening more rain.
I've never seen such flat water, it's a cliche indeed, but the water was glass. Untouched, unrippled, static, but not stagnant. With no wind and no tides, paddling around felt frictionless, though I did notice a current that got stronger, pulling you away from the beach, the further you went out. Nothing that couldn't be handled while swimming, though. The low resistance from the water and negligible wind would make this an excellent place to train for races and beating personal records. I found that without constant cross-waves and boat wake to contend with, I was able to focus solely on technique, which was a refreshing bonus.
Paddling back to shore and out again, I noticed this time, the change in underwater scenery. Starting off with the volcanic shale-like beach, to some ominously dark plants, almost black in colour. So deep under that it took a while to be able to differentiate the dark mass and identify it as plant. Then, without warning, these plants disappear into rich blue and that's all you ever see from then on. It's a bit disconcerting at first, as it's like looking down into a solid wall of colour, with no definition, debris, anything. Just blue. I stuck my paddle completely under water as a depth test and found that it was very hard to see the end of it, which was very peculiar, but intriguing nonetheless.
So serene, no sounds but that of the birds and the awakening cicadas. The gentle lapping of water as my board glides through the water. Then the sound of a raspy engine, screams, hooligans? No, just jetskiiers enjoying the last of the summer holidays. Blisteringly shattering the slumber of this previously unfettered lake.
It's worth a trip to paddle on and it's great to explore with a few others. Watch for the boats and jetskis and also for the swimmers. There are areas for swimming only, but as long as you're vigilent, it's okay to paddle. I'd be wary of going into the boating area, just as they do seem to come out of nowhere.
It's the only freshwater I've paddled on and it was awesome. A different feel to salt water, you do notice the slight lack of buoyancy while swimming and even on the board, but you adapt pretty quickly.
I hope to return there, soon.
Friday 3 January 2014
Goat Island Marine Reserve, Leigh
This marine reserve is home to a vivid and diverse range of sea-life, making it a popular place for snorkelers and divers. The many rocks and kelp dense areas make excellent homes for the fish and also an interesting place to explore. Goat island itself is about 200m out from the mainland and is accessible enough to check out the rockpools and chill out for a bit, too.
Parking is abundant and free, with quick access to the beach and the campsite just down the road from the site is reasonably priced, though booking is essential.
There are three parts to the beach; a large, grassy bank, which is out of the way and tends to be fairly empty, making it a good place to set up; the main beach, large and crowded, but a good launch point for the boards and the rock faces, which vary in accessibility depending on tides and are great starting point for snorkeling, but not so much for launching on a paddleboard.
The water between Goat Island and the mainland is sheltered from the wind and so remains fairly flat, making it a good place to paddle, as the waters are crystal clear. The beach area is far more exposed, making the water choppy and even hints at a small surf. It is still the best place to launch from, though as you've got less chance of being knocked towards the rocks and once you get past the break, it's dead flat.
It's a really easy place to paddle and seems safe, with no strong currents to drag you away. Unlike other paddling locations, the best views are actually below you, making it somewhat better to perhaps sit on the board to watch the fish for a while. However, if you're intent on paddling around the vast landscapes will not disappoint and you'll still see you fair share of fish while on the move.
Paddling right around Goat Island is a feasible task, which offers plenty of places to land and explore, though the majority of the island is sheer or part of the University of Auckland research laboratory.
Snorkeling/diving is simply a must at the reserve. It is rare to see such a range of fish so close to the shore, especially fish that do not seem to be affected by human presence. Combining the two is certainly possible, perhaps paddling out and around Goat Island before landing your board and going for a swim, or even as I saw some people doing, keeping a board with them and holding on to it as they looked underwater. This would be a good option for those not confident with ocean swimming.
Either way it doesn't really matter, but to really appreciate the wonders of the reserve, you've got to get right into the thick of it.
When paddling, it is really important to look out for the snorkelers. It's easy to get distracted while watching the fish, so many people don't stop to look at where they are going or if there are any hazards around. You've got to be their eyes and keep out of their way, which can be difficult when you are surrounded by them.
The other hazard is the glass bottom boat. This goes for paddling and snorkeling. It is very large and doesn't seem to stop for anything, so it's absolutely integral to keep out of it's way and warn anyone who may be getting a little close to the outboard motors.
Finally, make sure to only paddle around high tide. This is when the majority of the rocks are under enough water to paddle over without getting caught or stranded, but also when the water is flattest.
From what I saw of the changing water throughout the day, low wind or off shore winds with little to no swell would be optimal conditions for this beach. These tend to be the flattest conditions, making it more desireable due to increased visibility.
I'm not sure why it is called Goat Island, but as a part of the Cape Rodney-Okakari Point Reserve, it is a truly spectacular place to visit, especially in the summer.
Whether you are more interested in landscapes or sealife, it's easy to spend a day or two exploring the reserve, which stretches on for 500 hectares, so there is plenty to see and do.
Parking is abundant and free, with quick access to the beach and the campsite just down the road from the site is reasonably priced, though booking is essential.
There are three parts to the beach; a large, grassy bank, which is out of the way and tends to be fairly empty, making it a good place to set up; the main beach, large and crowded, but a good launch point for the boards and the rock faces, which vary in accessibility depending on tides and are great starting point for snorkeling, but not so much for launching on a paddleboard.
The water between Goat Island and the mainland is sheltered from the wind and so remains fairly flat, making it a good place to paddle, as the waters are crystal clear. The beach area is far more exposed, making the water choppy and even hints at a small surf. It is still the best place to launch from, though as you've got less chance of being knocked towards the rocks and once you get past the break, it's dead flat.
It's a really easy place to paddle and seems safe, with no strong currents to drag you away. Unlike other paddling locations, the best views are actually below you, making it somewhat better to perhaps sit on the board to watch the fish for a while. However, if you're intent on paddling around the vast landscapes will not disappoint and you'll still see you fair share of fish while on the move.
Paddling right around Goat Island is a feasible task, which offers plenty of places to land and explore, though the majority of the island is sheer or part of the University of Auckland research laboratory.
Snorkeling/diving is simply a must at the reserve. It is rare to see such a range of fish so close to the shore, especially fish that do not seem to be affected by human presence. Combining the two is certainly possible, perhaps paddling out and around Goat Island before landing your board and going for a swim, or even as I saw some people doing, keeping a board with them and holding on to it as they looked underwater. This would be a good option for those not confident with ocean swimming.
Either way it doesn't really matter, but to really appreciate the wonders of the reserve, you've got to get right into the thick of it.
When paddling, it is really important to look out for the snorkelers. It's easy to get distracted while watching the fish, so many people don't stop to look at where they are going or if there are any hazards around. You've got to be their eyes and keep out of their way, which can be difficult when you are surrounded by them.
The other hazard is the glass bottom boat. This goes for paddling and snorkeling. It is very large and doesn't seem to stop for anything, so it's absolutely integral to keep out of it's way and warn anyone who may be getting a little close to the outboard motors.
Finally, make sure to only paddle around high tide. This is when the majority of the rocks are under enough water to paddle over without getting caught or stranded, but also when the water is flattest.
From what I saw of the changing water throughout the day, low wind or off shore winds with little to no swell would be optimal conditions for this beach. These tend to be the flattest conditions, making it more desireable due to increased visibility.
I'm not sure why it is called Goat Island, but as a part of the Cape Rodney-Okakari Point Reserve, it is a truly spectacular place to visit, especially in the summer.
Whether you are more interested in landscapes or sealife, it's easy to spend a day or two exploring the reserve, which stretches on for 500 hectares, so there is plenty to see and do.
Paihia beach, Paihia
We didn't expect to be able to go out on the water on the second day, as the storm had raged to the point that we chose to sleep in the back of the car, rather than in the tent, to prevent total water-logging.
However, by morning, the storm had passed, leaving Paihia warm, sunny and full of debris.
So, we drove into Paihia to the main part of the beach, near the kayak hire shed. There's free parking right on Marsdon road, though the time limit is four hours. This is plenty for a decent length paddle and early in the morning, there's no competition for parking spaces. However, later on in the morning, during peak tourist times at least, the parks fill up very quickly. If all else fails and the tide is in, you could go to the next bay over, before Paihia. The roads around it have free parking and the side near the Beachcomber Resort seems to have free unlimited parking, too. However, at mid-low tide, this bay is a mudflat, so is not such a good option unless you're okay walking up a long mudflat before getting to water and even further before you get to water that's deep enough to paddle on.
We set out to Motuarahi island, which is about 200m out, according to Google Maps. We paddled to the lateral side and landed to explore. Much like Motumaire island, the centre was closed off for Dotterel breeding grounds, but the island had lots of deep rockpools and weathered rocks to explore and climb. Looking back at the mainland from here, you get a fantastic view of the mainland, with Paihia seemingly sinking into the dense vegetation around it. When the sun shines on the town, it looks beautiful as the light reflects out, contrasting the difference in colours between the buildings and encompassing forests.
Setting off from Motuarahi, we paddled closer to the shore, deciding to follow it around. There's a nature reserve of sorts, right on the coast. Though I think it's inaccessible from the water, it's good to look at while paddling along. Further along, you'll find secret beaches to enjoy and plenty of boats to avoid.
As you get further away from Paihia and Motuarhi island, you paddle in far more exposed waters which tends to get choppy and windy. This isn't too bad, but the water depth varies rapidly around there, so you can go from deep to shallow in a matter of strokes. However, continuing on this way is well worth the risk of getting grounded. As you travel into more rural territory, the landscapes get more and more vivid, growing more rugged and vibrant as you go. Plenty of secluded spots to chill out under tree cover before returning or carrying on your journey. You can carry on along the mainland for quite some time, with scenic reserves and inlets as a spectacular view. Though I don't know how the currents run, you could possibly explore Kawakawa river and the many snaking channels that go through it. However, I'd recommend finding out the currents and possible dangers of the river before checking it out. Especially if you've got the paddle back to Paihia Beach. Perhaps the river could act as it's very own paddling expedition.
The coasts around here are magnificent to look at and are a serene change to the bustling nature of Auckland, though it is important to watch for the tides and mudflats, as you don't want to end up stranded off shore.
We didn't follow the coast for too long, stopping at a sheltered beach before English bay. The shape of this beach was intriguing, as it drove sharply inland. It made a good rest point the trees were a good place to explore.
Setting off from there, we went directly out to Te Wahapu Inlet, a closed off nature reserve which at high tide offers mangroves to paddle through and at low tide, mangrove forests to walk through.
Due to increasing windspeed and chop, we decided to paddle back to Paihia, choosing the deeper and more direct waters, rather than back along the shoreline. This was far more exposed and choppy, although manageable for anyone confident on their board. Going this way does involve more boat traffic, so it is important to stay vigilant and not get in their way.
The coast around Paihia has so much to offer and, due to the weather, I barely scratched the surface. Carrying along past English bay will get you to Opua, with plenty of inlets and streams deep into the heart of the Northland Forest park; Going straight out for about 6km can get you to Russel, although paddling out to Pomare, Orango and Uruti bays, a secluded cluster of bays before Russel would offer a more scenic route.
Of course, travelling left will take you to Te Ti bay and up further along the coastline, which I did not get the chance to explore.
In good weather, Paihia is a fantastic place to paddle, with diverse scenery and locations, from lagoons, to rivers, to the islands at sea. The water remains pretty calm, without getting overly choppy, making it a suitable place for beginners, but also remains interesting for the more experienced, with chances for longer stretches.
There's so much to explore that you could spend numerous days out there and still not see all of it, though it is important to watch for the changing tides and wind levels, which can be deceptively quick.
However, by morning, the storm had passed, leaving Paihia warm, sunny and full of debris.
So, we drove into Paihia to the main part of the beach, near the kayak hire shed. There's free parking right on Marsdon road, though the time limit is four hours. This is plenty for a decent length paddle and early in the morning, there's no competition for parking spaces. However, later on in the morning, during peak tourist times at least, the parks fill up very quickly. If all else fails and the tide is in, you could go to the next bay over, before Paihia. The roads around it have free parking and the side near the Beachcomber Resort seems to have free unlimited parking, too. However, at mid-low tide, this bay is a mudflat, so is not such a good option unless you're okay walking up a long mudflat before getting to water and even further before you get to water that's deep enough to paddle on.
We set out to Motuarahi island, which is about 200m out, according to Google Maps. We paddled to the lateral side and landed to explore. Much like Motumaire island, the centre was closed off for Dotterel breeding grounds, but the island had lots of deep rockpools and weathered rocks to explore and climb. Looking back at the mainland from here, you get a fantastic view of the mainland, with Paihia seemingly sinking into the dense vegetation around it. When the sun shines on the town, it looks beautiful as the light reflects out, contrasting the difference in colours between the buildings and encompassing forests.
Setting off from Motuarahi, we paddled closer to the shore, deciding to follow it around. There's a nature reserve of sorts, right on the coast. Though I think it's inaccessible from the water, it's good to look at while paddling along. Further along, you'll find secret beaches to enjoy and plenty of boats to avoid.
As you get further away from Paihia and Motuarhi island, you paddle in far more exposed waters which tends to get choppy and windy. This isn't too bad, but the water depth varies rapidly around there, so you can go from deep to shallow in a matter of strokes. However, continuing on this way is well worth the risk of getting grounded. As you travel into more rural territory, the landscapes get more and more vivid, growing more rugged and vibrant as you go. Plenty of secluded spots to chill out under tree cover before returning or carrying on your journey. You can carry on along the mainland for quite some time, with scenic reserves and inlets as a spectacular view. Though I don't know how the currents run, you could possibly explore Kawakawa river and the many snaking channels that go through it. However, I'd recommend finding out the currents and possible dangers of the river before checking it out. Especially if you've got the paddle back to Paihia Beach. Perhaps the river could act as it's very own paddling expedition.
The coasts around here are magnificent to look at and are a serene change to the bustling nature of Auckland, though it is important to watch for the tides and mudflats, as you don't want to end up stranded off shore.
We didn't follow the coast for too long, stopping at a sheltered beach before English bay. The shape of this beach was intriguing, as it drove sharply inland. It made a good rest point the trees were a good place to explore.
Setting off from there, we went directly out to Te Wahapu Inlet, a closed off nature reserve which at high tide offers mangroves to paddle through and at low tide, mangrove forests to walk through.
Due to increasing windspeed and chop, we decided to paddle back to Paihia, choosing the deeper and more direct waters, rather than back along the shoreline. This was far more exposed and choppy, although manageable for anyone confident on their board. Going this way does involve more boat traffic, so it is important to stay vigilant and not get in their way.
The coast around Paihia has so much to offer and, due to the weather, I barely scratched the surface. Carrying along past English bay will get you to Opua, with plenty of inlets and streams deep into the heart of the Northland Forest park; Going straight out for about 6km can get you to Russel, although paddling out to Pomare, Orango and Uruti bays, a secluded cluster of bays before Russel would offer a more scenic route.
Of course, travelling left will take you to Te Ti bay and up further along the coastline, which I did not get the chance to explore.
In good weather, Paihia is a fantastic place to paddle, with diverse scenery and locations, from lagoons, to rivers, to the islands at sea. The water remains pretty calm, without getting overly choppy, making it a suitable place for beginners, but also remains interesting for the more experienced, with chances for longer stretches.
There's so much to explore that you could spend numerous days out there and still not see all of it, though it is important to watch for the changing tides and wind levels, which can be deceptively quick.
Te Ti bay and nearby islands, Paihia
I happened to be staying in Paihia during a tropical storm, which made getting out on the water more difficult than I had hoped. However, I did manage to spend a few hours at sea, over the course of two days.
On the first day, it was overcast and ended up raining torrentially halfway through the paddle. Although the skies were grey and the humidity was unpleasant, the locations were great and I can see it being phenomenal on a clearer day. We set off from Te Ti bay, a large beach between Paihia and the Waitangi Treaty grounds. There is plenty of free parking next to the beach and some on nearby roads, which makes carrying your gear a doddle. From Te Ti, you could go along the coast to the left, which would take you past the Treaty grounds and National reserve. There is a golden sand beach further up to the left, which looks pretty cool, though I haven't visited it. Following the coastline to the right, you'll get to Paihia harbour and beach. If you continue following the coastline from there, you'll get some great views of Paihia and the surrounding luscious green cliffs, with secret bays, great for rest points and checking out the rock pools. This stays pretty calm and is mostly sheltered by the islands, although when the tide is going out, the bays get very shallow and even completely drain to mudflats, which makes it important not to get caught by unfavourable tides.
However, on this day, we decided to explore the nearby Motumaire island (shaped like New Zealand) and Taylor island. Setting off from Te Ti, we paddled about 1.2k (according to Google Maps) out to the larger part of Motumaire. The main beach part of Motumaire is shelly but open, making it a good place to chill out and have a wander. Both sides of the beach have heaps of rockpools, with the usual small creatures like hermit crabs, anemone, chiton and snails. The centre of Motumaire is sheer, but vivid with foliage and totally inaccessible. It's an historic reserve, but also a breeding ground for the endangered Dotterels. They are sweet little birds, fast runners and not too afraid of humans, but keeping out of their breeding grounds is important. It's cordoned off and the birds roam around to feed anyway, so you'll likely see them.
We then paddled out towards Paihia to Taylor island, which didn't have a landing spot, possibly due to the high tide. It is important to keep an eye out for boats around here as you cross the main harbour. Without much to do on Taylor, we paddled right around it and around the back of Motomaire island. This crosses a ferry path, so beware of the ferry and the following wake. The back of Motomaire is more exposed to the elements, giving it a weathered feel. The rock formations look pretty cool with the water eroding rock into gnarled, contorted shapes and closed off coves. We explored around the coves and found that you could climb around the rocks fairly easily.
The side of Motomaire that faces the Treaty grounds was probably the best part, though. Heaps of deep rockpools, beaches, climbs and even a sort of cave making it a cool place to explore before heading back to the shore of Te Ti.
Due to the increasing winds and my astounding incompetence for breaking my thumb the day before, we cut the paddle short and headed back to Te Ti bay, instead of paddling back up to the coast towards the beaches by the Treaty grounds.
The islands are good targets to paddle out to, as there are many of them, so it's easy to set your own goals. They also make it a great place to explore, creating a more dynamic element to your paddle.
Around the islands, the water was a little choppy but fairly sheltered from the wind. Elsewhere, the water was easily affected by the wind and got pretty choppy, especially when the boats were around. This may have been from the storm, although when paddling on a far clearer day, the wind did pick up deceivingly quickly. The tides are another thing to watch out for, as you don't want to get trapped out on the islands and if you've gone for a long paddle, walking your board back to shore isn't going to be high on your to-do list.
This is definitely a paddle for high tide, due to there being far more water and less exposed land at this point; decreasing the chance of scraping your board on the rocks or, perhaps worse, falling and scraping yourself against the rocks.
In terms of difficulty, on a calm day, this would probably be chilled out and pretty easy.
My friend who came out on this paddle had never used a SUP before and seemed to handle it okay, only falling in a few times, although he seemed to find it fairly taxing after a while.
From a confidence point of view, the islands would be better for the more experienced to try, or at least someone who is comfortable with their ability in quickly changing and choppy water.
Having islands so close to the shore was a rewarding experience, as it was easy to set distance goals, with breaks in between to explore different terrain and enjoy the surroundings. From the islands, you get a different perspective of the mainland, offering a serene and rural feel to the town, far different from the up-close impression of a sunny bustling tourist trap.
On the first day, it was overcast and ended up raining torrentially halfway through the paddle. Although the skies were grey and the humidity was unpleasant, the locations were great and I can see it being phenomenal on a clearer day. We set off from Te Ti bay, a large beach between Paihia and the Waitangi Treaty grounds. There is plenty of free parking next to the beach and some on nearby roads, which makes carrying your gear a doddle. From Te Ti, you could go along the coast to the left, which would take you past the Treaty grounds and National reserve. There is a golden sand beach further up to the left, which looks pretty cool, though I haven't visited it. Following the coastline to the right, you'll get to Paihia harbour and beach. If you continue following the coastline from there, you'll get some great views of Paihia and the surrounding luscious green cliffs, with secret bays, great for rest points and checking out the rock pools. This stays pretty calm and is mostly sheltered by the islands, although when the tide is going out, the bays get very shallow and even completely drain to mudflats, which makes it important not to get caught by unfavourable tides.
However, on this day, we decided to explore the nearby Motumaire island (shaped like New Zealand) and Taylor island. Setting off from Te Ti, we paddled about 1.2k (according to Google Maps) out to the larger part of Motumaire. The main beach part of Motumaire is shelly but open, making it a good place to chill out and have a wander. Both sides of the beach have heaps of rockpools, with the usual small creatures like hermit crabs, anemone, chiton and snails. The centre of Motumaire is sheer, but vivid with foliage and totally inaccessible. It's an historic reserve, but also a breeding ground for the endangered Dotterels. They are sweet little birds, fast runners and not too afraid of humans, but keeping out of their breeding grounds is important. It's cordoned off and the birds roam around to feed anyway, so you'll likely see them.
We then paddled out towards Paihia to Taylor island, which didn't have a landing spot, possibly due to the high tide. It is important to keep an eye out for boats around here as you cross the main harbour. Without much to do on Taylor, we paddled right around it and around the back of Motomaire island. This crosses a ferry path, so beware of the ferry and the following wake. The back of Motomaire is more exposed to the elements, giving it a weathered feel. The rock formations look pretty cool with the water eroding rock into gnarled, contorted shapes and closed off coves. We explored around the coves and found that you could climb around the rocks fairly easily.
The side of Motomaire that faces the Treaty grounds was probably the best part, though. Heaps of deep rockpools, beaches, climbs and even a sort of cave making it a cool place to explore before heading back to the shore of Te Ti.
Due to the increasing winds and my astounding incompetence for breaking my thumb the day before, we cut the paddle short and headed back to Te Ti bay, instead of paddling back up to the coast towards the beaches by the Treaty grounds.
The islands are good targets to paddle out to, as there are many of them, so it's easy to set your own goals. They also make it a great place to explore, creating a more dynamic element to your paddle.
Around the islands, the water was a little choppy but fairly sheltered from the wind. Elsewhere, the water was easily affected by the wind and got pretty choppy, especially when the boats were around. This may have been from the storm, although when paddling on a far clearer day, the wind did pick up deceivingly quickly. The tides are another thing to watch out for, as you don't want to get trapped out on the islands and if you've gone for a long paddle, walking your board back to shore isn't going to be high on your to-do list.
This is definitely a paddle for high tide, due to there being far more water and less exposed land at this point; decreasing the chance of scraping your board on the rocks or, perhaps worse, falling and scraping yourself against the rocks.
In terms of difficulty, on a calm day, this would probably be chilled out and pretty easy.
My friend who came out on this paddle had never used a SUP before and seemed to handle it okay, only falling in a few times, although he seemed to find it fairly taxing after a while.
From a confidence point of view, the islands would be better for the more experienced to try, or at least someone who is comfortable with their ability in quickly changing and choppy water.
Having islands so close to the shore was a rewarding experience, as it was easy to set distance goals, with breaks in between to explore different terrain and enjoy the surroundings. From the islands, you get a different perspective of the mainland, offering a serene and rural feel to the town, far different from the up-close impression of a sunny bustling tourist trap.
Haruru Falls, Paihia
Haruru Falls is located about 3km away from central Paihia. It's a small residential settlement with two campsites and a motel right on the Waitangi Lagoon. Though the raging storms did not make camping the most pleasant experience, The Falls Motel and Campground friendly staff and perfect location make it well worth a stay in more clement weather.
As I had previously only attempted SUP on the sea, paddling on a lagoon offered a totally new experience, with glassier waters than I had ever seen. The water wasn't always clear, at times being very murky, but it always remained flat and it took a few minutes to get used to not bracing for swells. Especially when sticking to the deeper waters, this would be a good place to get the hang of stand-up technique.
Having said that, I'm not much of a fan of falling into waters that I can't really see, although perhaps that is an incentive to get the technique right!
It is possible to access the lagoon from both the falls and the end of the lagoon side. The easiest access from the falls side comes through the camping sites and is private property. If you are staying at one of the sites, you are welcome to use the launch points at your leisure. You can even rent out kayaking equipment very cheaply, if you are that way inclined. However, if you are not staying there, abundant signage makes it very clear that you cannot use their paths or parking spaces. There does seem to be a public access stairwell, though it is steep and windy and ends on the water so may not make a decent launch point and carrying equipment back up after a paddle would certainly not be easy.
At high tide, many people jump off the rocks near the falls, into the water (really good fun). If you are brazen, I guess you could throw your board in and jump in after it, though I'm not sure how you'd get out afterwards.
The lagoon end is situated opposite Te Ti bay, which has heaps of parking next to it, so all you'd have to do is cross the road and launch. This would probably be the best option if you were not camping at Haruru Falls.
The falls end of the lagoon is wide and reminiscent of a shallow lake at high tide, although is unmistakably salt water. The water is surrounded by rugged rock-faces, with the fall at it's head and the main mangrove channel snaking away at it's tail. This is where the campsites are and where the majority of the kayakers that you will see set off.
A fun game to play is a form of Chicken, with the winner being the one who get closest to the waterfall. It's pretty cool to get close to a waterfall that, although short, is rapid and so remains incredibly active, particularly after a storm.
This does tend to be the busiest end of the site and, other than the actual fall, the least interesting. The main views are of tents, kayakers and this weird, giant peddled water tricycle thing, which is powered by two occupants and is really slow and has a terrible turning circle. It's open and there's not much to explore. The falls are worth the travel, though and the small pebble beach makes a great launch point if you're staying at one of the sites.
Mangroves line the entire lagoon, except for the rock-faces nearest the waterfall. In some places they are packed densely, creating wide channels to paddle down. In others, where some of the trees are younger, they are looser, allowing you to paddle into the clusters, finding secret passages and much needed shelter on hot days. It is a truly surreal experience to look into the water and see that you are paddling on top of trees, whilst paddling under a large tree canopy. I had hoped to have taken some photographs of this view, but unfortunately my waterproof camera turned out to not be waterproof enough, so I guess it's just all the more reason to check it out for yourself.
However, if you do plan on exploring deep into the mangroves, though I hate to say it, it may be better to do so in a kayak. Larger fins could get caught or damaged in the smaller trees, where the kayaks tend to slide over the tops of them, with little difficulty. Having said that, if you make sure to explore them at high tide, this shouldn't be an issue, as long as you remain vigilant. Although it does mean you may hit your head on some of the lower lying branches!
It is within the mangroves that most life is seen. The falls end of the lagoon is more populated with people kayaking and swimming and almost completely drains at low tide, making it less desirable for fish. The mangrove channels are teaming with fish, which I did not realise until I saw one jump out of the water. For quite some time I'd been hearing a suspicious splashing noise and occasionally seeing a ripple but no sign of the source. I had assumed that it was one of the nearby kayakers throwing pebbles into the water, but it turns out, once one fish starts jumping, the rest tend to follow suit. They were able to jump remarkably high and were fast, too. From my count there were about fifteen jumpers in the school and possibly more under water. After watching them for a while, I worked out what to anticipate before a jump: just before a jump, you'll see a rippling circle becoming more and more voracious until a few second later, a fish will jump out and then swim away. It is rather odd to watch and can be a bit unnerving, especially when you see these numerous circles of water getting closer and closer to your board until the inevitable happens and one actually lands on it. In this situation, if it doesn't flip back into the water by itself, give it a gentle nudge with the handle end of your paddle, so that it doesn't suffocate.
Amongst the taller tree canopies on the water are hundreds of bird nests. The birds a fairly brazen and you can get close to the trees without disturbing them, which is pretty cool for the Ornithologically inclined. I'm pretty sure the majority of them are Great Cormorants (or Shags if you're more familiar with New Zealand bird names). The cormorants are great to watch, as they dive underwater, zip around after fish and pop up somewhere remarkably far away. Even watching them stand, wings spread far apart, drying them in the sun so they can fly away is pretty cool.
Even if you're not one for watching nature, the ambient sounds of cicadas, deafening at points in the thickest mangrove clusters; the calls of the cormorants and the sporadic splashes of the jumping fish make the paddle that much more intriguing. It gives the lagoon a bustling vibe, an essence of life that draws you in to explore it even more.
This location is heavily affected by the tides; at high tide, the waterfall is exploding with raw power and the lagoon is deep. This is the best time to go paddleboarding, as you've got less chance of being stranded on a mud flat or getting your fins caught in the mangroves. It also offers you more ground to cover and places to explore. At low tide, the lagoon shrinks to a wide puddle, surrounded by sinking mud and wiry trees. Unless your idea of paddleboarding is to take your board for a walk, I would not recommend going out at this point.
The entire lagoon is fairly sheltered, so the tidal effect has more of an impact on paddling than wind speed and direction. If you plan on going for a longer paddle, it may be wise to plan to have the tide going in the same direction as your end point, as you'll be more tired after a few hours paddling than before. So, if you start at the falls and paddle through the lagoon for a while, you'd want to be returning the falls when the tide was coming in. If you start at the lagoon end and make your way up to the falls side, you'd want to be returning while the tide was going out.
Other than the mangroves and tides, this is a pretty foolproof place to SUP and with a bit of care, those should not bother you. The constantly glassy conditions make it a great place to cruise, even for the inexperienced paddler and the wide channels make bumping into mangroves hard to do unintentionally.
Although I prefer to cruise on clearer waters, Haruru falls and Waitangi lagoon offer a wealth of scenery, from waterfall tothe mangrove forests, brimming with heaps of different birds and fish. There's so much to explore and one could easily spend a day or two touring the whole place. It's well worth a visit, especially if your main paddles are on the open sea.
As I had previously only attempted SUP on the sea, paddling on a lagoon offered a totally new experience, with glassier waters than I had ever seen. The water wasn't always clear, at times being very murky, but it always remained flat and it took a few minutes to get used to not bracing for swells. Especially when sticking to the deeper waters, this would be a good place to get the hang of stand-up technique.
Having said that, I'm not much of a fan of falling into waters that I can't really see, although perhaps that is an incentive to get the technique right!
It is possible to access the lagoon from both the falls and the end of the lagoon side. The easiest access from the falls side comes through the camping sites and is private property. If you are staying at one of the sites, you are welcome to use the launch points at your leisure. You can even rent out kayaking equipment very cheaply, if you are that way inclined. However, if you are not staying there, abundant signage makes it very clear that you cannot use their paths or parking spaces. There does seem to be a public access stairwell, though it is steep and windy and ends on the water so may not make a decent launch point and carrying equipment back up after a paddle would certainly not be easy.
At high tide, many people jump off the rocks near the falls, into the water (really good fun). If you are brazen, I guess you could throw your board in and jump in after it, though I'm not sure how you'd get out afterwards.
The lagoon end is situated opposite Te Ti bay, which has heaps of parking next to it, so all you'd have to do is cross the road and launch. This would probably be the best option if you were not camping at Haruru Falls.
The falls end of the lagoon is wide and reminiscent of a shallow lake at high tide, although is unmistakably salt water. The water is surrounded by rugged rock-faces, with the fall at it's head and the main mangrove channel snaking away at it's tail. This is where the campsites are and where the majority of the kayakers that you will see set off.
A fun game to play is a form of Chicken, with the winner being the one who get closest to the waterfall. It's pretty cool to get close to a waterfall that, although short, is rapid and so remains incredibly active, particularly after a storm.
This does tend to be the busiest end of the site and, other than the actual fall, the least interesting. The main views are of tents, kayakers and this weird, giant peddled water tricycle thing, which is powered by two occupants and is really slow and has a terrible turning circle. It's open and there's not much to explore. The falls are worth the travel, though and the small pebble beach makes a great launch point if you're staying at one of the sites.
Mangroves line the entire lagoon, except for the rock-faces nearest the waterfall. In some places they are packed densely, creating wide channels to paddle down. In others, where some of the trees are younger, they are looser, allowing you to paddle into the clusters, finding secret passages and much needed shelter on hot days. It is a truly surreal experience to look into the water and see that you are paddling on top of trees, whilst paddling under a large tree canopy. I had hoped to have taken some photographs of this view, but unfortunately my waterproof camera turned out to not be waterproof enough, so I guess it's just all the more reason to check it out for yourself.
However, if you do plan on exploring deep into the mangroves, though I hate to say it, it may be better to do so in a kayak. Larger fins could get caught or damaged in the smaller trees, where the kayaks tend to slide over the tops of them, with little difficulty. Having said that, if you make sure to explore them at high tide, this shouldn't be an issue, as long as you remain vigilant. Although it does mean you may hit your head on some of the lower lying branches!
It is within the mangroves that most life is seen. The falls end of the lagoon is more populated with people kayaking and swimming and almost completely drains at low tide, making it less desirable for fish. The mangrove channels are teaming with fish, which I did not realise until I saw one jump out of the water. For quite some time I'd been hearing a suspicious splashing noise and occasionally seeing a ripple but no sign of the source. I had assumed that it was one of the nearby kayakers throwing pebbles into the water, but it turns out, once one fish starts jumping, the rest tend to follow suit. They were able to jump remarkably high and were fast, too. From my count there were about fifteen jumpers in the school and possibly more under water. After watching them for a while, I worked out what to anticipate before a jump: just before a jump, you'll see a rippling circle becoming more and more voracious until a few second later, a fish will jump out and then swim away. It is rather odd to watch and can be a bit unnerving, especially when you see these numerous circles of water getting closer and closer to your board until the inevitable happens and one actually lands on it. In this situation, if it doesn't flip back into the water by itself, give it a gentle nudge with the handle end of your paddle, so that it doesn't suffocate.
Amongst the taller tree canopies on the water are hundreds of bird nests. The birds a fairly brazen and you can get close to the trees without disturbing them, which is pretty cool for the Ornithologically inclined. I'm pretty sure the majority of them are Great Cormorants (or Shags if you're more familiar with New Zealand bird names). The cormorants are great to watch, as they dive underwater, zip around after fish and pop up somewhere remarkably far away. Even watching them stand, wings spread far apart, drying them in the sun so they can fly away is pretty cool.
Even if you're not one for watching nature, the ambient sounds of cicadas, deafening at points in the thickest mangrove clusters; the calls of the cormorants and the sporadic splashes of the jumping fish make the paddle that much more intriguing. It gives the lagoon a bustling vibe, an essence of life that draws you in to explore it even more.
This location is heavily affected by the tides; at high tide, the waterfall is exploding with raw power and the lagoon is deep. This is the best time to go paddleboarding, as you've got less chance of being stranded on a mud flat or getting your fins caught in the mangroves. It also offers you more ground to cover and places to explore. At low tide, the lagoon shrinks to a wide puddle, surrounded by sinking mud and wiry trees. Unless your idea of paddleboarding is to take your board for a walk, I would not recommend going out at this point.
The entire lagoon is fairly sheltered, so the tidal effect has more of an impact on paddling than wind speed and direction. If you plan on going for a longer paddle, it may be wise to plan to have the tide going in the same direction as your end point, as you'll be more tired after a few hours paddling than before. So, if you start at the falls and paddle through the lagoon for a while, you'd want to be returning the falls when the tide was coming in. If you start at the lagoon end and make your way up to the falls side, you'd want to be returning while the tide was going out.
Other than the mangroves and tides, this is a pretty foolproof place to SUP and with a bit of care, those should not bother you. The constantly glassy conditions make it a great place to cruise, even for the inexperienced paddler and the wide channels make bumping into mangroves hard to do unintentionally.
Although I prefer to cruise on clearer waters, Haruru falls and Waitangi lagoon offer a wealth of scenery, from waterfall tothe mangrove forests, brimming with heaps of different birds and fish. There's so much to explore and one could easily spend a day or two touring the whole place. It's well worth a visit, especially if your main paddles are on the open sea.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)