Waihau Bay is a long way away, even if you start in Opotiki. It is a bloody long way if you start in Auckland (even bloody further if you start in Kaiwaka I suppose). Straight to the ramp to get the lie of the land. The ramp looked good (it was),
the pub looked good (it was)
and they appear to like big boats down these parts.
Eventually find our billet after a lack of confidence from the Pig who assured us he was not lost.
The excellent Haywards had been teed up by Tzer and we arrived to find Craig and his mates 'quiet' Tim and 'you really ought to get that thyrotoxicosis treated' Mike. Excellent house companions for a few days. Nothing left but to check out the interior of pub and contemplate that our only contact with the outside word was the Payphone outside the general store. Credit cards worked sometimes and especially if they hadn't maxed out or so someone told us. Nearest Payphone to this one is in Hick's Bay the sign on the phone booth informed us and that is twenty minutes drive away. Nearest reliable cellphone reception 100km down the road in Opotiki.
On the water first day at a respectable 0815. Now this is alright even for the crack of dawn merchants as all the rumours of put your lures in ten minutes from the ramp are absolutely true. Craig had given us the drop on tactics at Waihau and without these we would have been even more at sea (pun intended) than we were. Troll back back and forward between Orete Point and Cape Runaway first at 200m, then at 140m and then at 300m. If bored do zig zags. Now if this seems a little simplistic it is because it probably is. A look at the bathy's reveals a lot more subtlety than this and application of anything approaching Weasel grade subtlety was a little hampered by not knowing water temperature, having only a rough idea of boat speed and, most importantly, a negligible feel for the place.
Still we soldier on with 16 Black headed Vulcan in 'Skipjack ' at SC, a Lumo™ 16 Krakatoa at LC, SR a Shell Andromeda 'Bermuda' and an Ascension Shell Enki at LR. Oh yes, there was a bloody shotgun as well. Saurie Unicorn or a black/purple Zucker 5.5 depending on whether Boulder or Bushie won that particular round of the Shottie debate.
Note the Master's careful positioning that he misses nothing going on in the spread
Trolled for a few hours and it was suggested that we go and do something else. This is a quaint Waihau custom it would appear. The something else often is going ashore for a cup of tea and a lie down to return to the trolling a couple of hours later. You can do this if the ramp is ten minutes away. Our 'something else' was to be wiggly waggly, mechanical jigging, technical jerk - well there's a surprise. On our way to partake of this we witnessed Tzer trying to wreck his new boat in search of a snapper.
Right, into the wiggly waggly. I hooked and played with masterful prowess (well I don't think it was that bad - only called a pussy on the winding every minute) a kingy which I thought was a jolly strong little chap. He was going to come to the boat and then be given his freedom to grow into a big strong boy. I later find out that Bushie wanted him to meet a friend of his, a Mr Bradley. No idea what this was all about. However, all this became immaterial when my jolly strong little chap developed acute wimpness after a visit from a man in a brown suit.
I found it a little disturbing that my shortened kingfish was still moving his mouth when I bought him into the boat to recover Boulder's jig. Boulder said that if I had signed up for the rest of the fish it might have gone 18-20kg. I thought that sounded OK. Mr Large Stone then shortened two more kingfish and Bender shortened his rod. Another rather half hearted troll and back to Hayward's for Bender's chillie con carne. Call that chillie? Pffft. I had to add neat chillie from the jar to wake myself up.
We're getting the hang of this' ten minutes from the ramp stuff' by day two and saunter onto the ramp at 0915. The plan today was, well, I'm not really sure. Tzer calls in a short billed spearfish and we are at Lottin Point before you know what is happening. An hour to get there and four hours bashing into a short chop on a long rolling swell to get back. This area has serious currents. Going west back from Lottin and I thought we were never going to get past Runaway. We might have had a knock down on the shottie today (or was it yesterday). I'm not sure, Bushie is and I don't care. Get back to the delightful pub and hear that ten marlin were caught on this day and one released was estimated at 400kg. Serious animal.
Weather slated to go tits up for day three and it didn't disappoint. On the water early (0715 - hellfire) for a trip to the kingfish mark to see if we could beat the taxmen to work. No kingfish in sight. Ineffectual trolling for a couple of hours and the fishing part of the trip is over. The day remarkable for the amount of Bostik applied to the previous night's plan. Weather closes in and, although we never seemed to get that much wind (15 - 18 knots maybe) the sea gets very uncomfortable very quickly. This gives the impression of being a stretch of water with more to it than at first meets the eye.
Back to Haywards for a lounge about and I suggest we take Boulder's truck for a look over the hill at the back of the property. Serious bit of four wheel driving in search of a new, and as yet, uncaptured species leads to a spectacular view of the coast.
Boulder, I think quite sensibly, decides not to drive down the other side of the ridge to the coast - the Cape in the near distance is Cape Runaway.
Not much left now. Tzer's mates leave with their spearfish in chunks destined for a smoker
and the remaining five repair to the pub for a meal as all the Whakatane provisions had been ingested. As a culinary footnote Bender and I had a pork chop. Nothing remarkable in that you may say but this was a proper old fashioned pork chop with fat and crispy skin and a bone. Nothing like the reprocessed trampoline mat they sell in Auckland.
The promised rain has started now, we have a power cut and go to bed. Get up and there is still no power and still lots of rain - and the country at the East Cape really needs it. Drive home. All done.
Excellent four days and I couldn't give a rat's arse as to what has been going on in Toots. I am very glad that Bushie was persuaded to stick to the original plan and go to Waihau. The East Cape is a part of the world I had not been to before and I would not have missed this trip for anything. A bonus was meeting up with Tzer and his mates. Fishing.net throws up another gem of a bloke. I will definitely return. I think it will take a lot of trips to know how to fish this place properly - I felt very lost. The Weasel needs to come on a trip and be used for all his cunning. Various suggestions have been made to the Mayor as to how the Gay Munter/ Ultimate Mongrel can be made into an even meaner fighting machine and the response to some of these was even printable - but not to others.
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