One of the region’s best regarded features, Kapiti Island is a beautiful nature reserve managed by the Department of Conservation and is renowned as a bird sanctuary. Its iconic profile is prominent as you drive along State Highway 1.

Why had I been so slack? It’s not like it’s far away, being only a few kms off Paraparaumu Beach on the Kapiti Coast, which on a good day is about 45 mins drive north from Wellington city. But quite often it’s the stuff on your doorstep you don’t get round to doing.

I did try once before, a few years ago. The logistics involve booking a permit, a ferry ride that is quite weather sensitive, and an early start. The sailings were cancelled on the day I booked and I never got round to rescheduling.

What finally spurred me into action was a hefty price increase! With a short time horizon, Mike and I synchronised calendars and booked. But this attempt was another dud as the early morning phone call confirmed the ferry was again cancelled. We were down to just one more compatible day before the price hike.

And finally, a slightly kinder forecast meant that it was on. Early one Sunday in late January we shot off up the coast to find the Kapiti Boating Club.

Paraparaumu Beach. It wasn’t a stellar day but if the weather was good enough for the boats to run, it would be good enough for us

On account of the looming price rise, the charter company said this was their biggest ever day for passengers. As a result they had to run a second early sailing and we had been put on the second. I wasn’t too happy about that as our return time was unchanged meaning we’d have less time on the island. I wanted to walk up to the highest point and the published times suggested this was going to be pretty tight.

A sperm whale had beached here not long before our visit. The carcass had been taken for burial but a sign remained warning about possible nasties

When it was time we all walked across the beach to the boat, still on its trailer at that stage. The launching process was unusual in that regard but soon enough we were making our way across the choppy waters.

Boarding the ferry. The boats are launched off the beach using tractors

There are two destinations on Kapiti Island to choose from. We were going to Rangatira, roughly half way along the eastern shore, where up to 50 people can visit per day. Turns out we were the only two of our sailing getting off here. North End is the other stop where 18 visitors per day are permitted.

It was just the two of us disembarking at Rangatira and after we scurried off the boat promptly pulled away

Before long we were intercepted by a DOC ranger who took us to the visitor centre

With time a bit scarce I was keen to find the track and get going. But first we sat through the talk, which went a bit quicker with just the two of us. She said the previous session was with 40 people.

Which got us thinking. Maybe our later arrival would be to our advantage as we wouldn’t be caught up with the ‘crowds’.

First weka encounter during the introductory talk

Finally we were released. There are two paths up to the top: the 3.8km Wilkinson Track and the 2km Trig Track. The brochure said they take the same amount of time. We tossed the figurative coin and turned up the longer track.

Later on we’d thank ourselves we did.

A peek across to the mainland

Zig zagging up the Wilkinson Track

It was a beautiful walk. We’d get the occasional peak out across the water but for the most part we were enclosed in some of the most gorgeous native bush you’ll find in NZ. We didn’t make too much effort to find or see birds, that wasn’t really why we were there, so unless they jumped out and waved hello (which they didn’t) we would be oblivious to their presence.

Traps are set up to help ensure the island remains pest free

After powering up the hill, pausing numerous times for photos, passing a couple of rowdy family groups, we came to the intersection where both tracks meet and you make the final trudge up to the summit.

We arrived at the summit well inside the two hour guideline, hungry and ready to sit down. Momentarily taken aback at how many people were in the small clearing, we headed on up to the trig lookout. It wasn’t the clearest of days but it was a unique vantage point here at Tuteremoana with views both west out to the Tasman Sea and east back to the mainland.

The lunch break was occupied with chewing and more weka watching.

View from Tuteremoana, the summit

Trig at the summit

Quite crowded at the top

Excellent place for another weka close encounter

With an eye on the clock we didn’t stay too long, keen to get back down and explore the flat. Mike suggested we take the Trig Track and yep, that seemed a good idea to me. Of course I didn’t know then what I would soon be finding out.

These days they live in a small town at the head of the Kaipara Harbour and my grandmother lives with them. We used to live further out in the country, my brother and I going to a small rural primary school (which is still going strong) and then the high school in town.

In February I made a weekend trip back as I didn’t go up for Christmas and two birthdays were about to be celebrated, including Gran’s 96th.

As well as spending time with the family I got out around my old stomping ground. I’ve posted separately the old dairy factory and cemetery. Below is a picture summary of the remainder and I’ve delved into old photo albums for a trippy flashback or two.

Dad waits to get picked up for golf

Mum and Gran at the local market

Me and Gran in 2013…

…and in 1973

Gran on her wedding day in 1943. She still has the dress and it’s in pretty good nick – I tried it on, at Mum’s insistence!, and it sort of almost fitted but I ain’t the little thing that Gran was

Gran’s mother’s 100yo engagement ring which was very kindly given to me during my visit (not in the proposal kind of way!!)

My old doll Tammy, missing a row or two of hair due to a classic maim-doll-with-scissors incident

With my brother Kyle: fun times in 2013…

…and fun times in 1974

My brother at his place

The Kaipara River which runs from the Waitakere Ranges to the Kaipara Harbour. It’s always a delightful brown due to the sediments which run into it

A weeny fishing boat puttering out to the harbour

I used to play netball on what is now the high school carpark and back then we sure as heck didn’t have security fencing around the perimeter

In 1998, yours truly attempting a shot at goal

A derelict house beside what used to be the movie theatre

Freight trains still go through here but passenger services only run on special occasions

It’s good to have a place like this from your past to periodically revisit. It’s also good to be able to leave it behind each time as well.

Though I’m not religious I appreciate the symbolism and aesthetics, from the sombre beauty of military and battleground cemeteries on the Western Front and Gallipoli, to old and crumbling UK graveyards, to above-ground graves dotted across Vietnamese paddocks, to simple unmaintained burial grounds in rural Turkey. You get an impression of the history and culture of a place. You also get a fleeting insight to the lives of those who have passed and those left behind.

So during a walk around my home town earlier this year I found myself heading up to the cemetery.

I actually had in mind to find the grave of a boy I grew up with but try as I might, it evaded me.

From the road side…

The factory was still in business when I started high school (the mid ’80s, if we must date it) but it had closed by the time I left. Over many years it was bought and sold a number of times and became increasingly derelict. As you can imagine, local youth looking for things to deface and destroy loved it.

Many people said it was an eyesore and sure, I didn’t have to see it everyday, but I liked it. Or at least appreciated its history and decayed character.

From the river side…

Nothing happened for so long it seemed it would remain one of those goliath reminders of the past. Here’s a news article from 2011.

But recently mum emailed me with the news that much of it had come down.

I was glad to hear they left the end of the original art deco building (even though there are no particular plans for what to do with it), and the other end will be renovated for re-use.

So that’s that. I’ll have a look when I’m back there in June.

More precisely, we went to the Orongorongo Valley to the privately owned Orongorongo Station.

This farm has a fascinating history, from the very early days when you could only access the land via canoe, and supplies from Wellington were delivered once a year. Once a year!

Managed by four generations of the Riddiford family for the best part of 145 years, some of the other challenges thrust at them were the massive earthquake of 1855, a big fire soon after that, and a huge landslide in 1939 that left three feet of mud and debris throughout the homestead.

It was no cruisy country life.

After the property left family ownership in the late ’80s, a group of businessmen turned it into a stunning lodge and function venue. Unfortunately this venture was cut short when the property was levelled by fire in 1990. I saw a copy of an old brochure and the place looked amazing.

Today the current owners offer three farm cottages as holiday accommodation and have converted the old stables into a function venue.

We booked one of the cottages, the one which didn’t mention ’4WD advisable’. To get to a couple of the houses you have to drive across a ford. Not sure either of our cars would be up to that!

One of the big drawcards for Mike was being able to use our bikes on the old Coast Road. This was the original stock route between the Wairarapa and Wellington, a section of which is now on the private Orongorongo Station land. I obtained permission from the owner and so when the Saturday in April finally rolled round we trundled out there with a gear/bike/food-laden car.

Unfortunately, the weather gods were in a grump. It was wet and windy – an early taste of winter.

This wasn’t all bad for me. I love winter and storms and to be honest I kind of prefer the Wellington coast in wild weather.

Orongorongo Station is a rugged place, located at the end of the valley and bordering the coast. We found our cottage, tarted up a little in recent times but still a fairly original farm house. It was big – which in this weather meant difficult to heat. All heaters on deck!

Such were the conditions we ended up flagging the ride, disappointing but it would’ve been miserable. Instead we opted for walks in the afternoon and the following morning. We explored the coast and some of the other farm buildings – lots of run down stuff, which I love.

I’d like to return (in summer!) to explore more of the coast and valley. The Turakirae Scientific Reserve is home to a seal colony, at the right time of year, and beaches that were left high and dry after earthquakes a few thousand years ago. There’s also an old WW2 radar installation up on the hills somewhere.

We returned to Wellington, wet and muddy but having cleared a few cobwebs. It’s nice to know you don’t have to venture too far from home to escape the rat race.

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