At the farthermost top point of the North Island is found Cape Reinga, known for both its iconic lighthouse and
as the departure point for the spirits of the dead. Maori have long believed that the spirits of
the dead pass by here on their long journey back to their Pacific homeland of
Hawaiki, this being the point where they plunge into the sea and enter the
underworld.
There were no “whisperings of the dead passing by” when I
visited, only a howling gale-force wind that threatened to blow one off the
long steep path leading down to the lighthouse.
From the top of the path could be seen Cape Maria van
Diemen, the westernmost point of the North Island and named by Abel Tasman when
he visited here in 1643.
The waters off to the west of Cape Reinga’s lighthouse are
rough and turbulent as they mark the spot where the Pacific Ocean and the
Tasman Sea collide with each other. The
whirlpools that are created were believed to be the coming together of male and
female and symbolised the continuation of life.
The multi-directional signpost here points to many places,
including its compatriot at Bluff, 1452 km (784 miles) away, at the farthermost
bottom point of the South Island.
Leaving Cape Reinga behind, I left the main tar-sealed road
and headed along the first of many dusty corrugated gravel roads I explored in
the area. My poor little car (I have a
Suzuki Swift named Missy) did extremely well but had to suffer the indignity of
becoming camouflaged with a thick layer of dust.
The side trips were worth it though as the roads often ended
in isolated picturesque beaches. Only
occasionally on my following dead-end roads did I end up in real “dead ends”
that lead nowhere and had nothing to show, places where one could only turn
around and retrace the journey just taken.
There was not a person in sight anywhere when I arrived at
Tapotupotu Bay with its hot white sands and brilliant blue seas.
I had been told I must visit the Te Paki sand dunes, and was
glad that I did. These 150 metre high
hills of fine golden sand cover a coastal strip about 10km long by 1km wide.
There was no direct pathway to the dunes and I (and others!)
wandered around for a while getting lost in the tall vegetation, before
learning that access to the dunes is by wading across the shallow Te Paki
stream.
A lot of people come here specifically to go
sandboarding. Boards are available for
hire to anyone keen enough to climb the hills and slide all the way back down
again – lots of laughter and lots of sand in your clothes, but lots of fun as
well. I made it onto the dunes but I
never climbed all the way up, and I never did the sandboard thing either!
I use automatic exposure on my camera, and neither of these photos really show how golden the sand truly was.
I never took the long walk down to Spirits Bay either,
electing instead to sit in the shade and eat my lunch beside the river that
flowed into the bay. There is a camping
ground here, operated by the Department of Conservation, and a few campsites
had already been occupied by those wishing to beat the summer holiday rush. The whole area felt laid back and relaxed,
like those lazy hazy days of summer one hears about.
Rarawa Beach was another definite “must-do” on my list. It is the nearest public access to the Te
Kokota sandspit, one of the world’s purest deposits of white silica sand. The beach was certainly a dazzling white in
the sunshine, but closer inspection showed the sand to be more of an off-white
colour than pure white.
My last stop for the day was at Ninety Mile Beach, which is
really only about 55 miles (88km) long. Tour buses drive along the beach during
low tide times making their way to and from Cape Reinga.
The wind whipped up the fine sand and stung my bare legs,
but I got a cheerful blast on the horn and a wave from the tour bus passengers
as they sped by.
Then it was back to Kaitaia to refuel Missy and feed me,
followed by an early night to sleep off an overwhelming feeling of pleasant
exhaustion. It had been a great day.
Margaret.
