VictoriaApril 30
The sun poked through the clouds this morning so we grabbed our stuff and headed to the beach.
We were the only people at Cooks Beach on this quiet Tuesday morning. James Cook landed here in 1769 and set up his instruments to observe the transit of Mercury (when the planet Mercury crosses between the Sun and the Earth.)
Not feeling quite as ambitious as Cook, we spread out a sheet and plopped down on the sand. We stayed for a bit, listening to the sound of the surf and enjoying the view of Cooks Bay and the Mercury Islands in the distance.
We left the beach and drove up the road to the Shakespeare Cliff lookout. Captain Cook named it after the famous playwright as he thought he saw his profile in the rock. There were great views of Cooks Bay and the town of Whitianga.
We stopped for a coffee and a spinach and cheese scone at Ferry Landing Cafe. I’m getting so many great baking ideas for when we get back home!
Perhaps our coffees energized us, made us feel brave and bold. Or maybe it had been a while since we last broke the rules and were feeling reckless. Remember our visit to the Blue Pools in Makarora when we crossed the icy river to reach the “closed” tourist spot? Well I guess it was time to up our bad boy/girl ante again.
On the DOC website for the Cathedral Cove hike in Hahei, there’s a red warning alert saying the trail is closed and the cove is only accessible by boat. The trail suffered damage from Cyclone Gabrielle last February and has still not reopened. Something about land instability.
Kiwis are a hearty rule breaking bunch who like to get visiting tourists on their side. We were assured by Mark, the owner of the Hotties cafe at Hot Water Beach, that the track was indeed accessible and people are hiking to the cove every day, just ignore the warnings and go.
Up for another adventure, we set out to see for ourselves. We drove to the carpark which had several warning signs about the track being closed. We parked in a spot with a sign that read “contractors and concessionaire parking only” and headed for the trail. Broken rule #1.
We were fairly certain that the Maui campervan parked in the same lot was not a contractor nor a concessionaire and hoped for safety in numbers against traffic wardens.
We enjoyed a few panoramic views from the lookout and found the path down.
Our first obstacle appeared about three minutes into our walk.
A chain link fence ran perpendicular to the path with several warning signs on it that the track was closed. Not seeing a way around it, we turned back to the car. Just as we were walking away a couple appeared from the forbidden side. Hmmm. They must know the way, we thought. We approached them and they gave us the inside info we needed to proceed with our illicit mission.
We walked back to the fence and lo and behold there was a narrow path alongside it with an opening to the other side. We walked down and around with no problem. Broken rule #2.
There were a few more chain link fences to skirt around and some downed trees on the path that we had to climb over and limbo under, but so far it was all pretty doable. Let’s call them broken rules #3 and #4.
Twenty minutes later, we hit a major obstacle.
There was a huge plywood padlocked blockade going across the path, about 8 feet high. We saw no way around it, but Mitch noticed a muddy foot path to the left where other hikers had clearly climbed up and over the rock. I hoisted myself up with a helpful ass boost from Mitch and got to the top of the fence, wherein I proceeded to freak out. The drop down to the other side was too steep for me. Nope. Not gonna happen. I scrambled back down, defeated.
Not one to be put off by heights or dangerous drops, Mitch went up and over the fence with no trouble and safely landed on the other side. “Take lots of pictures!” I shouted, as he forged ahead to the famous cove, leaving me phoneless (I left my phone in the car) and abandoned on the chicken side of the fence.
I paced back and forth as I waited, irritated with my cowardliness. My FOMO was getting the better of me. I tried to go around the right side of the fenced wall, but it looked even more dangerous than the climb over with a straight drop down into a crevasse. I saw myself slipping and falling and being rescued by firefighters forced to hoist me out of the bush and subsequently rat me out to the DOC. I couldn’t and wouldn’t be THAT American tourist who ruined this opportunity for future adventurers. I would have to settle for the pictures if/when Mitch returned.
A few minutes later, a French couple came back over the fence, but instead of dropping down onto my side, they appeared via a path through the forest. They showed me the way and I mustered up the courage to try again. I arrived to the top of the forbidden side, but still needed to make the drop down by myself. Mitch was still not back. There was no way I was going to attempt the precarious climb down by myself, so I continued to wait.
A few minutes later, I heard Mitch on the other side of the wall. He said I should try to drop down again because the cove was really spectacular. With his coaching, I was able to safely make the backwards climb down to the other side, taking one careful step at a time. Broken rule #5 (but thankfully no broken bones).
From there it was another few minutes walk on the trail, down a ladder to a beach called Mares Leg Cove.
Wow! This place was amazing. There were high white cliffs with pohutukawa trees on one side and the massive arch on the other.
Cathedral Cove is a naturally formed arch of ignimbrite, a rock substance made up of pumice and ash from volcanic eruptions over eight million years ago. It became an official marine reserve in 1992 because of its rich and diverse environment untouched by southerly winds.
We were quick to take a few pictures under the arch but not linger too long, as signs cautioned against falling rocks.
There were only a few other people on the beach, those brave enough to complete the adventure by foot or smart enough to arrive via water taxi. We took it all in, amazed by the scope and grandeur.
Sad to leave such an extraordinary place, we reversed our steps. I much more easily climbed back up and over the fence to arrive onto the forest path. From there it was smooth sailing, or walking, back to the car park.
Now our only concern was whether there would be a ticket waiting for us on our car window.
Thirty minutes later we arrived to a ticketless car and rejoiced at our good fortune. Who knew breaking the rules could be this much fun?
As if that wasn’t enough excitement for one day, we drove back to our bach (pronounced batch) and had a quick snack on the patio. We changed into our bathing suits and armed with our shovels, headed across the street to Hot Water Beach.
Two hours either side of low tide, you can dig your own natural hot pool on the beach, with the Pacific Ocean threatening to cool off your efforts. Naturally heated mineral water bubbles up from deep within the earth to expose the hot spots.
Low tide today was at 5:36 pm. We arrived around 4:15 and saw people standing around with their shovels, waiting for the tide to go out before they started digging. As we waited, we chatted with the people around us: Aussies from Brisbane, Kiwis from the South Island and California teachers who pulled their tweenage kids out of school the last few weeks of the semester to travel around NZ, Australia and Bali. Damn. The only time my parents ever pulled me out of school was for a trip to Hershey Park, PA. I think I missed a Friday. Not. The. Same.
We saw some people who looked like they knew what they were doing so we ventured their way. They were oohing and aahing as they stood in a dug-out mini pool in the sand.
We looked for the bubbles on the sand, indicating the hot spots, and started to dig. We jumped into our pools (more like puddles) and our feet were immersed in not warm, but hot water. Really hot water. To the point where I felt like the bottom of my feet were being scalded. The water temperature can reach 147 degrees Fahrenheit.
There was a lot of digging, immersing our feet and then lifting them out to avoid burning them. It took a lot of tries to find that perfect spot that was just the right temperature.
Because there were pretty big swells the past few days, the tide was relentless and kept filling in our pools even though it was low tide. We stayed for an hour or so then called it quits. The sun was starting to set and it was getting cold. We dropped off the rented shovel, then walked across the street to our bach, grateful for a hot shower, no money required.
