I've been told I'm to write about the New Year Buller trip from the beginning of 1997 onwards. This is not easy because: a) I began 1997 in an intoxicated state; b) I'm not actually sure when 1997 started, due to the eight separate countdowns we had at the Owen River tavern; and c) Two months have elapsed since the trip.
We began '97 partying at Owen River, although Duncan and Ceri soon left, apparently prefering the comfort of a tent. By the small hours of the morning, only Mark and I were left to be entertained by a very drunk Dean, repeatably trying to tip a dancer off a table. We eventually left him to it and went to sleep. He turned up the next morning after apparently crashing at some other campsite.
So it was that a group of bleary-eyed, hung-over paddlers approached Granity rapid on the Buller the next morning. It was very low, due to a total lack of rain. Despite this, I still spent ten minutes looking at it and asking ``what if...'', all for what turned out to be twenty seconds of action.
Ceri left us to cycle back to Picton with her friend Ruth. Bernie decided he wasn't well enough to continue, so made arrangements to head back home, and the rest of us, with our new Japanese friend Kenji, headed off for Lake Mahinipua, south of Hokitika.
January 2nd: Dean had a rest while the rest of us tagged along on a helicopter fly-in trip arranged by Bill Thompson to the Whataroa River. He was heading for the grade 5/6 upper section, but we were content with a grade 3/3+ lower section. Since none of us had done the section we spent lots of time scouting. There was one particular rapid that Richard reckoned we should walk until Mark showed him this wasn't necessary! The others followed like sheep, except for me who, prefering individuality, did the grade 5 portage. Richard took the only swim on the section, in a grade 1 eddy -- and his attempts at explaining it didn't impress us. We then spent the next 15 minutes trying to recover his expensive high-tech paddle from a recirculating eddy.
A few warnings about helicopter trips: 1) the rapids are much bigger than they look from the air; 2) five minutes flying time equals five hours paddling/scouting time; and 3) don't leave your kayak too close to the helicopter when it's taking off unless you want to see it jump several metres into the air.
That night was spent at the Mahinipua pub a few minutes walk from the camp. Mark got friendly with Liz -- a paddler from Christchurch, and was strangely absent from the tent that night. The walk back from the pub to the camp was along a pitch black track. Dean managed to get lost and ended up sleeping in the grass. I know this because I left at the same time, but for undisclosed reasons, didn't get back to the tent until three hours later. Dean stumbled in frozen, five minutes after me.
Friday was a rest day for Kenji, Richard and myself, while Mark, Duncan and Dean did a helicopter trip to the Wanganui (not the one in the North Island!). Suffering from kayaking withdrawal, I resorted to being towed in my boat around the campsite by Duncan's car -- great fun except for nearly wiping out a few tents.
The next day we figured we'd look at the lower section of the Arahura, which was rumoured to be a good paddle with enough water in it. There wasn't! More tent swapping that night when Dean asked Kenji if he could use his tent for some reason or other.
January 5th: time to head back up to Picton for our ferry to Wellington. We stopped for a quick surf at Fox beach north of Greymouth. But then Duncan's clutch, which had been slipping most of the trip finally gave up just outside Murchison and his car would go no further. A quick swap of bodies, boats and bags got four of us got into Mark's car leaving Duncan in Murchison to deal with his clutch.
By now time was really short so Mark got to play his favourite driving game -- how close can he get to the car in front at 120km/hour while trying to pass them (answer -- about 2 metres) and Dean practiced one-finger salutes at the ``stupid'' drivers who made it difficult for us to pass them. In the end we got there in time, and as it happened the ferry was delayed so we had even more time to spare. Duncan made it back to Wellington on the 2:30am sailing the next morning (unfortunately without his car) so ending a great New Years trip.
Luke.