Environment – A day and night on the estuary

There’s a saying that roughly says you should walk for an hour every day. Unless you’re really busy or stressed, in which case you should walk for an hour-and-a-half. It’s a saying that can equally apply to camping. Camping is mandatory for my mental, physical and general good health, especially in times of duress, and when bad weather would otherwise confine us indoors.

There’s another saying, from the French philosopher Camus, that says, “In the midst of winter, I found in me, an invincible summer”. And yet another suggests there’s no bad weather, just bad clothing.

So, after a stressful few months, on the cusp of spring, with cool and changeable weather, I channelled my invincible summer, gathered my woollies and raincoat. We packed our kayak, with a just-turned six-year-old moko, and headed over to Puhoi cottage across from Wenderholm, for a day and night on the estuary.

It was a chilly day, but the estuary was calm. Our wee girl insisted on jumping off the kayak into the tide for a swim. We picnicked on the porch of the cottage, bagged our bunks. And kayaked again, up into Amazonian freshwater streams and for another picnic further on. In the afternoon, we headed up the hill to Te Muri, playing hide and seek among the sheep, besotted with the bevy of lambs.

In the evening, snuggled in our sleeping bags, we stargazed from the porch. The estuary was empty by morning and oystercatchers chattered and fed on the sand flats. A family of about seven black shags ducked and dove in the channel. Fish scattered riplets across the water surface, and occasionally leapt. A solitary spoonbill swept the shallows around the tidal edge and a rare reef heron stalked. White-faced herons were statuesque and a Caspian tern wheeled. Kākā called, and kereru swooped and flapped across the sky and into the bush behind us. A shy banded rail ventured out to peck in the mud.

We had time to read the story books kindly left on shelves, and played an innovative game of scrabble suited to a just-turned six-year-old’s spelling skills. We ran around the cottage playing tag. The cottage bunks were perfect fun just in themselves. We kayaked back to Wenderholm in the rain.

Puhoi cottage was built by the Schischka family around 1926, so it’s been standing in its perfect spot for 100 years.

All you can see from there, and the headland behind it, is regional park. This is thanks to the old Auckland Regional Council, plus the additional land which I and others added to when we were in the last days of that institution.

Thanks to those investments, that precious landscape should just keep getting better. Those birds should continue to peacefully graze. Hopefully, that little girl will take her moko camping there in years to come. We’re recharged. But we’re going camping again in another couple of weeks, too.