The rental people, Pioneer Jetboats, told us they would pick us up at the Tattle hotel at 9am. One of our logistical problems was where to store the bikes, Newton, and other equipment we didn't want to take on the trip. In typical Kiwi-friendliness Maree, the woman who runs the hotel, told us we could store the bikes in her garage. She even helped us move the bikes in. If you go into a shop here and ask if they have a toilet, they will usually open the back door and let you use their own private toilet. None of this "we don't have a public toilet" stuff that can make a bicyclist awful uncomfortable and angry.

The night before the Pioneer rental people dropped off 2 of these these strange 60 liter white plastic barrels for storing our stuff. The lid is only about 6 or 8 inches in diameter making it slightly difficult to load. We put the clothes in one and food in the other. Our tent, sleeping bag, and cooking stuff was in our big green dry bag, Homer. The barrels proved to be a real nuisance compared to an ordinary dry bag. Heavy stuff ended up working its way to the bottom and the small opening made it hard to find things. I put a plasctic bag for garbage in the top of one and didn't see it again until the end of the trip.

In Auckland I happened to run across a map of the Whanganui river marking all of the rapids. In our 100 mile trip, the map marked 200 rapids. This and the robustness of the barrels gave me the impression that the river would be fairly dangerous and we were quite likely to capsize. The boat would be new to us and heavy with gear. Eventually over 200 unfamiliar class two rapids we would make a mistake. I figured it inevitable. With this in mind, I left the adventure horn with the bikes. This I would regret.

Normally we would have started in Taumarunui itself but since we had to wait a day for the water to go down, our driver Gordon drove us 22km down river to a place called Ohinepa. We found the canoe specially fitted to hold the cannisters side-by-side and each of us had a small enclosed compartment for keeping a camera and a few snacks. Joan, perhaps the world's best canoe lounger, placed Homer directly behind her seat as a back rest. The paddles had a small blade but a thick shaft and weighed about 50 pounds each. I hated them. I suppose I could have killed a sheep with one if we got desperately hungry but as instrument to maneuver our way down the river they were terrible.

The cold, windy, rainy put-in that lie just above a rapids, took me back to a trip down the Greenbrier river in West Virginia with Rand and Jeremy. That river was also flooding as we started out in cold wet weather and I damned near capsized or swamped a few times in the raging spring runoff. The Greenbrier river was supposed to be an easy class 1 in normal conditions.

So we left Ohinepa with an appropriate sense of adventure. I told Joan that the river reminded me of the Greenbrier but not about how raging that river was and about all my close calls.

We took on some water and Joan got her butt wet but other than that, the first rapid was nothing but a lot of chaotic chop. No rocks to maneuver around or anything tricky. We could have gone through sideways with the same result.

Steep sheep paddocks lines each banks in classical New Zealand outdoor decoration. The river sped along rather rapidly and I calcuated our speed to be 5mph without paddling. So we didn't.

After about an hour the sun came out and we saw an old faded wood sign facing the river reading, "Nukunuku Museum" then below in small letters, "Admission and Camping enquire at house." We got out among the sheep and cows, wandered past some sheds with old horse drawn farming equipment and passed through a gate to an old road. A couple dogs greeted us but we saw no people and weren't sure where the house was. Among all the debri and sheds and chicken coups we saw no sign of anything resembling a museum either.

We walked back to the boat, dodging cow pies and trying not to stir up the livestock too much. A couple cows nearby gave us the eye but then went on chewing. They gave me the impression they think they are superior, as if to say, "If you had any real brains, you'd be at home chewing too."

We did eat some cheese, crackers and salami then Joan took a siesta and I read.

The rapids the rest of the day were about like the first one -- lots of chaotic chop but no danger.

We did not see a single other boat all day. Gradually the river valley became a gorge and the paddocks gave way to forests. We had also entered the Whaganui National Park.

You'll be happy to know that we ignored almost all of the advice of Pioneer when deciding where to camp. That night we camped at a campsite called Maharanui. They have a picnic table under a wooden hut. The hut has a corregated metal roof and the water collected from the roof goes into a big storage tank in back where there is a sink and a hand-pump fawcett. We never needed water on the trip. We put our tent next to the hut in a grassy meadow covered with little yellow flowers. It didn't look like many people had camped there this season. Just 4km away is a deluxe hut, with indoor bunks, gas burners for cooking, and even electricity! It is possible to go down the river for 5 days without a tent or a stove. This, apparently, is what your $25-per-person fee is for. Personally, I'd prefer just an open meadow, maybe a picnic table, and no fee.

next: Whanganui Day 2: The bridge to no-where.

  New Zealand Main Page      World Trip