Visit Whale Bay where book characters come to life

Did you know that Whale Bay which features in all the books in the Just series is a real place? You can hike there from Matapouri, or park in the carpark at the top of the hill on Matapouri Road, about one kilometre past the Matapouri Store. From here the path meanders through shady stands of giant pūriri, before dropping down to the beach, where a thick tangle of pōhutukawa trees await, their octopus trunks splayed wide upon the sand. Beyond, lies the sparkling blue bay where book characters Jessie, Em and Becky, found the mystical obsidian stones bringing the magic of this special part of New Zealand alive.

Whale Bay is a place where new treasures can always be found. Many additions to my shell collection have been made here. To find the best, I follow the high tide mark, scanning for hidden treasures between swathes of seaweed, guarded by armies of bouncing sand hoppers.

But sometimes it’s worth following the waterline, keeping your eyes alert to the surging waves firing shiny shells and sea-smoothed pebbles onto the sand. This is how I stumbled upon the stone which inspired Just End It, it caught my eye, and when the wave peeled back, I scooped it up.

Treasure hunting aside, this is also a great beach to have a swim. It’s lovely and sandy as far out as you wish you go, and at each end of the bay there are rocky reefs, havens for marine life, so make sure you bring your mask and snorkel.

When you’re done, there’s plenty of shade for picnicking on soft sand beneath the old pōhutukawa trees, and there’s a DOC loo at one end of the beach should you need it.

So what are you waiting for? Come and take a look sometime, you may even find some treasure of your own.

Tropical treatery

Oh my! What else is there to say? I spent an hour of my morning enjoying a raw food chocolate treat at the Quail Cafe, washed down with a latte, and riveting conversation with a like-minded friend. Set in the lush subtropical shade of the Quarry Gardens in Whangarei, this is honestly set to become my new happy place!

Just quietly it’s a secret I’d rather keep, but for readers of my Just Series of books, who are heading out to Whale Bay, it must be shared as it’s only a couple of minutes drive off of State Highway 1. You can Google it for directions.

So now the secret’s out I guess I’ll see you there... I’ll be the one tucked up in a corner of the terrace reading, or writing, looking smugly content with a belly filled with... you guessed it... chocolate.

The Far North→

There’s a magnetic quality to New Zealand’s Far North. The people and place exude a raw energy that seems as timeless as the primeval landscape. For the traveller, the journey to the point where two worlds meet calls with an insistence that cannot be ignored, and every encounter on the way brings unexpected sights and friendships that are somehow deeply familiar.

Eerie and unforgettable, the land is shrouded in ancient legend, but as each day breaks, the glorious sunrises bring clear skies and subtropical warmth, soothing the senses and drawing one inexorably onwards to the pulsating heartbeat of this mystical place. According to ancient Maori traditions, the souls of the dead gather at the tip of windswept Cape Reinga before leaping from an 800-year-old pohutukawa tree to begin the voyage back to their final resting place in the ancestral homeland of Hawaiki.

This passage to the afterlife begins at Te-oneroa-o-tohe, more commonly known as Ninety Mile Beach. Spirits travel the length of its sands, bearing gifts of regional tokens such as fern fronds or a manuka cutting. These offerings are placed on Te Arai Rock near the Bluff, and then the journey continues inland at Twilight Beach towards Cape Reinga. A stream marks the crossing over: those who do not drink from it return to the body, while those who choose to quench their thirst continue on to the gnarled pohutukawa tree, and leap, descending through its tangled roots to the seabed. From here they travel to Ohau Island, the largest of the Three Kings Islands (seen on the horizon on a clear day), where they resurface to bid a final farewell before returning to Hawaiki.

Legend it may be, but something – or someone – is definitely in the air as we begin our travels. Crossing a bridge at the base of the Aupouri Peninsula near Waiharara, our leisurely pace attracts attention.

“Kia ora!” some kids yell out, before slipping over the edge one by one into the water.

We turn off towards Kaimaumau, a small village of baches bordering the azure blue Rangunu Harbour, and here we meet Northland lifestylers, Rosco and Raewyn Pennell, who say they initially made do with a caravan while they built their dream home and established an alternative lifestyle. Today, the couple produces all of their own meat, and they’re almost entirely self-sufficient, farming chickens, ostrich, emu, and pigs, plus tending to an enormous veggie garden, and a house cow (a beast supplying their daily milk requirements).

From what I can make out all the vegetables grown here in the Far North are super-sized. We pull off the road and park beside a simple roadside stall, to buy an enormous bunch of grapes for only $2.

A fifteen-minute drive later, accompanied by delicious mouthfuls of sunbursting flavour, we turn into Houhora Heads, where a cafe and campground in the best Kiwi tradition take prime position on the water beneath Mt Camel’s brooding gaze. Behind is the Subritsky Homestead, built to last in 1860 from swamp-kauri floorboards, walls of rock and wood, and plaster made of powdered seashells.

“There’s no foundation to speak of,” wheezes a grizzly-looking old timer, seated on the well-worn threshold soaking up the sun. He tells us the row of Phoenix palms out front were planted for their unique root structure, which holds the earth and makes caves, which were apparently “once good for smuggling – but they only ever found stashed food.”

Back at the harbour, a fisherman pulls a good-sized snapper onto the beach. There are lots to be had, he says, both in this sheltered harbour and on the West Coast, a mere 20 kilometres away.

“This is a real twin coast,” he says, tearing out the snapper’s gills. “You’ll see sharks on the west coast, orca on the east – they chase those darned stingrays that keep tangling my line.”

Following his directions, we cross the peninsula to Hukatere, where a hill gives a fine view of Ninety Mile Beach, a magnificent unbroken arch of white sand flanked by the Aupouri Forest. There’s no sign of sharks but I spy a band of fine-looking wild horses roaming free on its sands. There’s a tale told in these parts that these are the descendants of thoroughbreds that escaped a ship wrecked off nearby Cape Maria Van Diemen.

Back in the old gumdigging town of Houhora, we call into the Houhora Big Game and Sports Fishing Club. The harbour views are awesome from here, and there’s an impressive line-up of trophies, including black and blue marlins and blue fin tuna. Here we meet a charter skipper who says he’s had a love affair with this place since he first came as a kid in 1956.

“The road was so bad then between Kaitaia and Houhora that all our supplies were ordered in Auckland and brought up by boat. We got here in a Model 8 but we had to know where every creek was along the way for the radiator!” he says.

There’s plenty to do in Houhora, he reckons, from the plentiful fishing through to beachcombing, fossicking for kauri gum, scuba diving, playing golf, bowling, tennis, and shooting pheasant and wild pigs.

“It’s a haven for kids. The eight to 12-year-olds who come here haven’t even got time to have breakfast!”

The town hosts its own legendary annual hunt where locals compete to catch one pig, one duck, one pheasant, one trevally, and one snapper – all on the same day. The club also holds sports fishing competitions, including the Houhora One Base Game Fishing Tournament, which attracts so many competitors they say you can literally walk across the harbour on moored boats.

I would love to stay, but the urge to continue northwards is growing stronger, so we move on, through Pukenui, where youngsters pull in kingfish from the wharf, and on past New Zealand’s most northerly pub, the Houhora Tavern, whose home is an old woolshed dragged here in 1902. It’s a good place to rub shoulders with hardy Northland types.

At Te Kao we stop at the local store, and join kids eating ice cream on the bench outside. The shop keeper sits in a wicker chair in the sun, tapping her foot to the old-time music drifting from inside, where handmade ketes (bags) jostle for space along with jandals (flip-flops) and baked beans.

At Waitiki Landing I check the gas, and the attendant recommends we take a photo of a half-buried, rather plastic-looking lighthouse at the adjacent campsite which has seen better days. Just north of the landing, the road to Spirits Bay beckons, but the pull of the Cape is now too strong for any side-trips. Maybe tomorrow.

Heading on up the peninsula, the road narrows. To the east are the incredible white silica sand dunes of Kokota, which mark the entrance to the Parengarenga Harbour; to the west, out of view, lie the giant ochre-tinged Te Paki dunes.

With each turn, the outlook alternates between the Pacific and Tasman, like a panoramic tennis match. Suddenly, across the water the awe-inspiring spectacle of Cape Maria Van Diemen looms into view, and we swing into New Zealand’s most northern car park, twelve degrees below the Tropic of Capricorn.

Here, under the watchful gaze of the wind-whipped Cape Reinga lighthouse, the Tasman and Pacific meet, colliding in a fit of fury, spitting salty spray in a tempestuous battle for dominance. Contorted trees grimly cling to the weather-beaten hillside, not daring to glimpse down at the jagged cape and the watchful eyes of its keeper, a solitary gnarled pohutukawa.

I raise my camera but feel suddenly chastised. A cloud comes from nowhere and steals my light. The baleful glare of this ancient watchman seems to dare me to leave. The urge is momentarily overwhelming and my breath catches as I feel the pull of those tangled limbs reaching out toward me above the maelstrom of churning waves and spume.

And then the sensation is gone. The sun emerges, and I peer through the lens, finding a composition of elemental force and tranquility: wind, water, land, sea, tree.

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Golden Bay - Farewell Spit to Takaka

At the northern-western tip of the South Island, where the mountainous Wakamarama Range rolls down to meet Golden Bay’s turquoise horseshoe, a long narrow spit of sand curves into Cook Strait like a chalky overgrown fingernail against a blue blackboard. However this windswept limb is no unsightly talon in need of a good groom, it’s Farewell Spit, the longest sandspit in the world and home to one of New Zealand’s most important bird sanctuaries. Here amongst the shifting dunes and indigenous grasses over 90 species of native and migratory bird make their home.  

The spit began life 6,500 years ago and today two-thirds of its constantly evolving form is classified as unstable. Pushed by prevailing westerlies the spit lengthens every year by six and a half metres. Its northern coast is pounded by the Tasman Sea, while its sheltered southern shores provide a safe haven for shellfish and waders. It’s a fragile ecosystem protected by the Department of Conservation (DOC); no public vehicle access is permitted and only four kilometres of its 35 kilometre length may be seen on foot.

To journey to the gannet colony at the end of the spit, visitors must join a guided trip. The team at Farewell Spit Tours know the spit well. In 1946 they began a mail run to the lighthouse, transporting supplies to the keepers and their families. Visitors who were interested came along for the ride, and so the tours began. 

Manager, Paddy Gillooly is a local born and bred. His family dates back to Collingwood’s boom days, the 1850s Aorere gold rush when everyone thought the town should become the capital. When rush ended, many families departed, but the Gilloolys stayed on. Paddy says Kiwis who visited the spit as children in the ‘50s, are now returning and bringing their grandchildren.

We set off in a unique 4wd vehicle with tiered seating, so everybody had a great view. Our guide for the day, Kersten Franke, likened the spit to a kiwi bird. “It’s a kiwi beak,” he said. “The migratory birds look down, see the beak and know they’ve arrived in New Zealand!”

Kersten says Farewell Spit is one of 28 fly way points for migratory birds around the world and in 1938 it became a wildlife sanctuary. On the sheltered inner beach we see many natives: white herons, South Island pied oyster catchers, banded dotterels and Caspian terns. As we cross the dunes to the Tasman Sea the migratory birds come out to play. There’s the turnstone, an inquisitive bird busily examining stranded debris – they’ll soon be off to the Northern Hemisphere to breed on the Arctic Coast – and throngs of Eastern Bar-tailed Godwits preparing for their journey to Northeastern Siberia.

It’s 27 kilometres to the lighthouse and the scenery is desert-like. Crescent-shaped dunes rise high above blackened salt pans and small sand storms dance along the shoreline. Sand storms are not uncommon here with the spit often experiencing strong winds of 22 knots (40 km/h) or more. Windy, dry and semi-arid, it’s an inhospitable place to live as the first lighthouse keepers discovered.

A lighthouse was erected in 1870 after officials decided 10 shipwrecks within a 20 year period was one too many. Built from jarrah, an Australian hardwood, it was blasted to pieces by sand, so a new steel tower was built in 1897. To provide protection the keepers planted a shelter belt. Today this can be seen from Collingwood; it looks like an island on the horizon.

The lighthouse buildings are now used to display the old lenses and one is used for the safari. Inside its walls are plastered with historical photos; the map from 1945 is particularly interesting because you can see how fast the spit is growing: the shell banks upon which the gannets now nest did not exist back then.

We head along the beach, past clumps of kelp, scattered driftwood and basking seals to the colony which began in 1983 with 30 pairs of nesting birds. It’s a strange set up for gannets as they usually prefer to breed on rocky outcrops. As we walk towards them a few curious birds with gorgeous golden crowns fly by checking us out. Over on the shell banks their smoky-grey young flap their wings, preparing for their inaugural flight.

Later as the sun sets, casting a golden glow on the wet sand flats, we return to Collingwood, our resting place for the night. We're woken early by our neighbours, keen hikers, who are heading off into the wilderness with their compass and map.

There’s a good variety of walking tracks in the region to choose from including the famous Heaphy Track, a five day walk to Karamea through Kahurangi National Park. The drive to the start of the track, up the Aorere Valley and through Rockville and Bainham, is very scenic. From Bainham the road deteriorates somewhat, splashing through a series of fords before coming to halt at a popular picnicking spot beside the Aorere River.

On the return journey, we stop for a cup of tea and a scone at Langford’s Store in Bainham. It’s run by Sukhita Langford, a kindly spirited woman who happily chats to everyone passing through. The store was opened by Sukhita’s great-grandparents in 1928 and an old Grey’s tobacco sign still hangs on the wall. And you’re historically-minded, there’s not a lot that Sukhita can’t tell you, from local coal mining in Puponga to the Aorere gold rush.

The Aorere Goldfield is located nearby, past the Te Anaroa Caves and the Devils Boots – a couple of unusual limestone formations that look just like giant gumboots. Gold was found here in 1857 and Aorere became New Zealand’s first major field. The rush lasted for three years and attracted 1,000 men to the region but they were soon enticed further south by greater finds on the West Coast. Signposted tracks lead to the remains of their sluicing machinery which is scattered amongst the bush.

Meanwhile, the Te Anaroa Caves were discovered around the same time by the Lash family who bought a farm in the area and named it Rockville. Since then adjoining caves – the second Te Anaroa Cave and the Rebecca Glowworm Cave – have been found. The caves are usually open in the summer for guided tours and feature many beautiful icicle-like limestone formations including stalactites, stalagmites, bacon drapes, straws and columns. Other highlights include fossilised scallops, penguin bones and gypsum flowers.

Past cave explorers have also left their mark, by signing their names on the cave walls. The earliest signature is by WD Lash and is dated 1884.

In Collingwood the old cemetery gives an insight into the lives of the early settlers, and recalls the shipwrecks, floods and fires which have plagued the town’s history. Due to fire, Collingwood’s oldest remaining building is St Cuthbert’s, a tiny Anglican church built in 1873. Located on a hill it offers a superb view of this intriguing little town: a cluster of homes on a small sandspit, sandwiched by the Aorere River Inlet, a series of mountain ranges and the aureate shores of Golden Bay. Immediately below the church is the Courthouse, built in 1905, now housing a popular cafe, and a tiny museum with a small but interesting collection of pieces. 

The region offers a number of excellent road trips including the journey to the beautiful Kaihoka Lakes, set amongst a forest of nikau palms, and the marine reserve at Whanganui Inlet, the second largest estuary in the South Island. Further along the route is Mangarakau, an old coal mining village, followed by a cluster of baches at Anatori. The road ends here but if you have 4wd you can continue as far as the Turimawiwi River.

The road to Puponga at the base of Farewell Spit hugs the coastline, passing a small shellfish processing plant, where harvested cockles are chilled and exported. The town has a long coal mining history but the last mine closed in the 1970s and now all that remains is the old jetty poles which protrude from the sand at low tide. The road comes to an end at Puponga Farm Park, created by the New Zealand government to form a protection belt around Farewell Spit.

The DOC information centre provides information on local hikes, or you can enjoy coffee on its extensive decks, and there’s a whale distress kit at hand if required. It’s a grim reminder that whales often beach here, however thanks to unfailing efforts of locals and visitors, many are rescued in the nick of time.

We tackle the easy 20 minute walk to Wharariki Beach – a gorgeous West Coast beach with a spectacular jumble of caves, islets, rock pools and sand dunes. It’s a photographer’s paradise. Other popular walks include Cape Farewell, where Captain Cook said goodbye when he left New Zealand in 1770; the rocky outcrops of Old Man Range; and the Pillar Point Light, dubbed ‘blinking billy’ by the locals.

Pillar Point is the site of New Zealand’s first radar station which was used during WW2. A good way to reach the light is on a horse riding expedition with Cape Farewell Horse Treks. There are a variety of routes to choose from including Puponga Beach and Old Man Range, good easy rides for beginners. The more advanced will enjoy Wharariki Beach.

I board Bungle, a sprightly cod-liver chestnut with a dark mane and tail, for the ride to Pillar Point. From the top the views are stunning – a 360 degree sweep from Farewell Spit through to Abel Tasman National Park. Even the North Island’s Mt Taranaki can be clearly seen on the horizon.

It’s a hard place to leave, but leave we must for we have a date with Takaka, the largest town in Golden Bay. 

We’re ravenous when we arrive in Takaka so we head straight for the Anatoki Salmon Farm, a fresh water salmon farm located in a sheltered valley beside the Anatoki River. Here you can fish to your heart's content and pay only for what you catch. All fishing gear is supplied and you can have your catch hot smoked to eat in their cafe, or take it home fresh to barbeque.

Meanwhile our four kilogram fish is gilled and gutted, then packed carefully on ice inside a polystyrene box for our journey to Sans Souci Inn, a popular lodge in the seaside village of Pohara, located on the outskirts of Takaka.

Here, we’re greeted by the chef, who, spying our salmon, whisks it into the manuka smoker while we check into this beautiful Mediterranean style building surrounded by cobbled courtyards, lush tropical gardens and a large orchard. Sans Souci was built by its owners, Vera and Reto Balzer, using natural eco-friendly materials: handmade mud bricks, clay tiles and timber. The ceiling is insulated with turf. Of particular interest is the centrally located shared bathroom, which features spotless, sweet-scented composting toilets.

The composting is an intricate process but simply put, excrements, sawdust and lawnclippings are turned into organic matter by micro-organisms which create enough heat to kill harmful germs. The process takes about two years and the end result is a rich compost which can safely be used as an organic fertiliser for trees. A fan, located at the back of the seat, keeps the area aerated, so there’s no unpleasant smells.

Needless to say the lodge’s eco-friendly ways are quite a talking point amongst guests, many of whom are keen environmentalists. The atmosphere is relaxed and friendly, and because it’s only a short drive to Abel Tasman National Park, it’s a favourite amongst outdoorsy people.

The scenic route to the park winds around Ligar Bay, past the Abel Tasman memorial and Tata Beach to the Wainui Falls. It takes 40 minutes to hike through bush and across a swing bridge to the base of the falls. From Wainui the road continues through dense forest before emerging beside the orange-tinted sands of Totaranui.

Here, at the DOC information centre you can choose from a variety of hikes ranging from 20 minute strolls to five day tramps. The one hour Coast Track to Anapai Bay is a popular walk and it’s well known as one of the park’s loveliest bays.

For those who prefer to wear out their shoe tread in a different manner, Takaka has more than its fair share of quirky cafes, craft studios and galleries. A popular pilgrimage for locals and visitors alike, is to the Mussel Inn where publicans, Jane and Andrew Dixon serve their own brews, made with locally grown hops.

A 10 minute drive out of town leads to some of the clearest freshwater springs in the world. The Waikoropupu Springs rise through thick layers of ancient marble and discharge approximately 14,000 litres of water per second. The beautiful iridescent blue and green pools are home to freshwater snails, long finned eels and freshwater crayfish, and jungles of water milfoil, forget-me-nots and rushes grow tall. The springs, like all the places we've visited in Golden Bay, are nothing short of special.

Abel Tasman Time

Abel Tasman time. What a different pace. After a few days here your biorhythms fall under the spell of the rolling tides, the glorious sunsets, and the warblings of tui and bellbird, which greet you joyously every morning. And right at the heart of Abel Tasman National Park is Awaroa Lodge, an eco-friendly retreat that has slowly evolved in this coastal paradise of golden beaches, large tranquil lagoons, deep-reaching estuaries, and forested hills, and has formed a harmonious partnership with its environment.

A water-taxi ride to the lodge sets the scene: bush-clad hills punctuated by picturesque bays. When you pull up on the sands of Awaroa Bay, your luggage is whisked onto a tractor trailer while you take off shoes, hitch up your skirt or trousers and plunge into holiday mode, the warm sand massaging bare toes. For me, this unpretentious landing awakens a childlike urge to stay barefoot for the duration of our stay, and I take a moment to savour the rush of familiar sensations: sand between my toes, fresh salty air, gently lapping waves, and the distant rustle of lush native bush. Then it’s a pleasant meander up the wooden ramp off the beach to a wide track that weaves through native manuka and kanuka trees, enormous flax bushes, kowhai, and rustling cabbage trees to the lodge itself, set amongst on the banks of a wetland restoration project.

Awaroa Lodge blends with in its environment, respecting its surroundings by employing low-impact waste-management systems, maximising recycling, and buying eco-friendly products. Drinking water is sourced from a spring in the hills and filtered onsite while waste glass is pulverised in an old lime crusher and incorporated into funky concrete pavers and umbrella stands. Power for the lodge is generated using solar energy, gas, and diesel, while excess heat from the generator room is used in a large drying room for kayaking and adventure gear.

A stroll through the gardens reveals a wealth of sculptural works, many incorporating materials from the lodge itself, and others by local artists, including John Benge. Old tea-lights from the restaurant are captured inside cleverly crafted chicken-wire structures, and the doors of the greenhouse once graced the lodge's dining room.

Awaroa Lodge is renowned for its fresh, organic cuisine featuring local seafood, home-baked breads, and tasty, homegrown produce. Guests are encouraged to wander through the inspirational organic onsite vegetable gardens and orchard, where herbs and salad greens nudge shoulders with berries, fruit, vegetables, and flowers. In the mornings you are likely to find the chef ferrying armfuls of summer vegetables back to the kitchen, a bountiful harvest for the day’s menu.

It’s no surprise then that the heartbeat of Awaroa Lodge is its restaurant. Furnished with large wooden tables and high-backed chairs reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland, it’s adorned an ever-changing array of local artwork. The original outside fireplace takes pride of place in the spacious lounge, where the constantly fluctuating power adds to the romantic ambience. A fireplace seat is the perfect place to curl up in the evening with one of the many books, magazines, games, or historical photo albums made available to guests. An outside courtyard enclosed by straw adobe walls topped with quirky sculptures is furnished with driftwood furniture, rustic tables, and a huge fireplace in the shape of crayfish tail. A short distance away, the sea whispers, and the calls of seabirds on the inlet and estuary are echoed by their cousins sheltering in the surrounding bush-clad terraces.

After a strenuous but relaxing day wandering amid the surrounding bush and wetlands, where fantails flittered about our waistlines, and grey warblers, tui, and bellbird keep company with banded kokopu, koura, and inanga, we had worked up a healthy appetite – gourmet packed lunch notwithstanding. There was also the weighty decision to be made about our next day’s activity: sailing on a 40 foot catamaran, kayaking to Mosquito Bay, or attempting a stage of the Abel Tasman Track. As we sat out under the stars, the mouthwatering menu only adding to our dilemma. The entree was an easy choice for a cheese-lover like myself: a golden haloumi cheese stack with slow-roasted tomatoes, mushrooms, and eggplant on rocket. The main was a difficult choice but the Moroccan spiced chicken breast served on cannelloni bean, fennel, and roast tomatoes with citrus butter sauce won out, a simple but taste-infused sensation which was truly sublime teamed with a glass of Selaks Marlborough Pinot Noir. Then there were the desserts! Lots of naughty choices like pavlova stacks, chocolate whiskey torte, sticky date pudding, and vanilla bean brulee with Awaroa biscotti and macerated blueberries. Sadly, I couldn’t possibly fit in another morsel – until I was offered the dessert cocktail of the day. And so it was: Butterscotch Affagato – vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with a rich butterscotch sauce, toffee liqueur, and chunks of Russian fudge served with a shot of espresso. Truly wicked. Just what we needed to galvanise ourselves into action for a moonlit stroll to the glowworm grotto in the forest.

We sleep peacefully, and the next morning’s catamaran adventure flutters by all too quickly. In this sympathetic environment, my internal world seems to have slowed down to the timeless pace of the surrounding forest. My senses have woken as if from a deep slumber: I savour the sun-ripened tomatoes and zucchini from the garden that reappear in an explosion of flavour on a char-grilled vege platter; delight in the warbling bellbirds that keep me company on an afternoon stroll; and I become fascinated by the bark of the kanuka trees, which sheds and grows back in a cycle of regeneration that resonates with my own personal awakening.

Thoroughly revived, we take our places in the water-taxi and with a renewed appreciation I absorb every minute of the return journey. The by-now familiar Abel Tasman bushline accompanies us towards Marahau, and we pass pods of sea kayakers enjoying the crystal clear water and glorious sunshine. Great formations of limestone and granite bid us farewell, and sunbathing seals nod lazily as we pass. We drop some hikers off at different bays along the Coastal Track, and I can’t help but feel a stab of envy towards the owners of the 40 or so rustic baches at Torrent Bay.

Back in Marahau, we’re reunited with our vehicle which was parked in Aqua Taxi’s secure facilities, and we admire the rippled golden sandbanks exposed by the retreating tide before crossing to the Kiwi holiday Mecca of Kaiteriteri. Lots of kayaking tours depart from here and it’s a popular spot to hop on or hop off the water-taxi. Our next port of call is Motueka, a buzzy little town with a myriad boutiques, galleries, and studios displaying local wares, then we head onwards through orchards of apples and hops, sampling sun-ripened produce enroute at simple roadside stalls.

The journey through the Moutere Valley is densely populated with intriguing characters and boutique lifestyle ventures. We pay a visit to see the works of clay artist, Katie Gold, at the Bartlett and Gold Gallery, and then pop in to peruse the preserves and country kitchen wares at Moutere Gold, next to Upper Moutere Store. 

Then we potter back towards Mapua, calling in at Jester House, a local cafe-bar, where we feed skewered delicacies to huge tame eels, which slither out of the water to eat from our hand. Then it’s on to Mapua, a tiny corner of the world that’s put itself on the map for the freshest smoked fish, great coffee, superb ice creams, and a quirky gallery.

Named the Coolstore Gallery, this veritable treasure trove showcases the works of more than 60 established and emerging artists. It would have been hard to tear myself away, if it hadn't been for the temptation of a fresh berry ice cream, calling too loudly to resist. We dangle our legs from the wharf as we enjoy this cold delicacy then later head into The Smokehouse Café to join the throngs who come from miles around to feast on the freshest Tasman Bay seafood and produce. Then, it’s on towards the nearby city of Nelson which boasts more working artists per capita than anywhere else in New Zealand. Its streets are lined with the studios, galleries, and workshops of a wealth of talented individuals, including painters, potters, sculptors, weavers, glass artists, wood turners, carvers, jewellers and furniture-makers.

Here, where our journey comes to an end, as we watch the light change the colours of the water in Tasman Bay, it suddenly dawns on me that we’ve stumbled upon the source of the pulsing heartbeat that mesmerised us back in Abel Tasman National Park. The inescapable tempo that draws forth creativity from the local soil and those it sustains is none other than the rhythm of the Pacific as it beats against the coastline, resonating beyond to all who venture to these parts.

Raglan's Raglan and Kawhia's Cool

Surf's up when we arrive in Raglan. We haven't yet seen the ocean but it's easy to tell because there's zillions of surfboard-clad vehicles all vying for a park on the main street, where salty individuals lounge outside cafés. Nearby at Manu Bay, famous for its left-hand break, the surf pounds in. Every summer surfers from around the globe compete here in the international surfing competition so we're not surprised to see locals making the most of the good swell.

At the Raglan Surf School, Matthew, a transient snowboard instructor, tells us he always returns here. “Raglan’s Raglan, you know. It’s known for the sun, the waves - it’s a world-class surf break,” he says.

This windswept stretch of coastline, with its small village hugging the harbour beneath the benign gaze of Mt Karioi, has long been a popular haunt. The history of the town can be traced back nearly 1,000 years to the Tainui, while the first European land sale took place in 1850. Back then, early settlers relied on boats as their main form of transport and Raglan remained an important port until shipping was diverted to Tauranga in the 1960s.

The town has several fine buildings, such as the Harbour View Hotel, built in 1866 and repaired in 1903 after fire damage; the 1874 immigrant cottage at 1 Bow Street; and the old school in Stewart Street. Traditional-style Kiwi baches form the majority of dwellings and a link to Raglan’s more recent past, while large, architecturally designed houses prove that the beach is fast becoming a popular lifestyle choice for many.

Raglan is an interesting mix of the old, the new and the funky. There's a surfeit of good eateries and hip places to hang out at and the town also boasts more than its fair share of artists’ studios and design stores.

Activity-wise there's lots to do: you can take your pick from surf lessons, harbour cruises, fishing, horse trekking, kayaking, paragliding, skydiving, tandem cycling, kite surfing, swimming and hiking. Popular walks include hiking Mt Karioi, Te Toto Gorge, Karamu Walking Track and the beautiful Bridal Veil Falls.

We take a scenic drive to Kawhia around Mt Karioi, past Papanui Point and Ruapuke, joining up with Te Mata Road prior to Bridal Veil Falls. The four-kilometre trip to the falls is a worthy side trip and it’s a short, ten-minute hike to see its cascading waters.

After a quick stretch of the legs we plough on following muddy, unsealed roads, giving brief glimpses of the azure expanse of Aotea Harbour. It looks so tempting, we make another diversion to check out the sandy harbourside settlement of Aotea. It’s ruggedly serene: waves crash on the bar but the sheltered waters behind are still, there’s no sign of life in the village, bar squawking gulls, and the store – a brightly painted caravan parked near the shore – is closed.

Nearby in Kawhia, a once thriving port in the 1850s, another sleepy scene awaits. The main street, boasting the Kawhia General Store and a couple of eateries, leads to the wharf. Nearby is Kawhia Seafoods, where legendary fish and chips are served, and the Kawhia Museum, housed in the former Kawhia County Council building. As well as offering information on local Maori and European history, it has an interesting collection of treasures, including, moa bones, kete and adzes, and a large display on the Kawhia whaleboats, bought here in 1910 by rowing enthusiasts.

Kawhia has a rich Maori history. Along the shoreline is the ancient pohutukawa tree, Tangi te Korowhiti, where Hoturoa, captain of the Tainui waka, moored upon arrival in New Zealand during the 14th century, and Ahurei, a small hill south of Maketu Marae, where the vessel later came to rest. Beside the carved meeting house at Maketu, we see the Kawhia home of the Maori Queen, and nearby the site where Hoturoa established a school where 12- to 17-year-olds learnt to use traditional weapons.

The first European settlers arrived in the mid-1820s. The newcomers set up flour and flax mills in the region and exported many goods, including potatoes, wheat, apples, onions and pigs, until the land wars in 1863, which heralded an exodus of settlers from the King Country till 1881.

Kawhia was also once a busy port, but its popularity declined as New Zealand’s road and rail network grew. Today, it’s a peaceful backwater that can be reached via minor roads from Waitomo or Raglan, or from Otorohanga via State Highway 31. Its waters are popular with fishermen, as well as wind- and kite-surfers, who congregate at the harbour mouth. A short drive leads to Kawhia’s wild ocean beach and Te Puia Springs, where, if you dig a hole in the sand at low tide like we did, you’ll be assured of a hot bath.