NEW ZEALAND ARTIST

                  My Blog

January 2018

 

 

 

 

 

Kaipo river.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent article about Paul. December 2017

 

http://www.sunlive.co.nz/blogs/11437-spotlight-on-paul-foote.html

 

Foote Family Reunion, Westport  April 2017

 

The Foote clan (inlaws and outlaws: Kate & Tom, Liz & Don, Chrissy & Chris and Paul & Corien) assembled at Cape Foulwind. Lucy, Jacco and Ari also joined us for a few days.   We stayed in what has become a traditional meeting place for Foote family gatherings “the Steeples homestay”. This multi-story beach house perched high on the clifftops overlooking the wild Westcoast Tasman sea and Steeples islands with access to the beach and kaimoana make this a perfect abode for Foote family reunions.

 

The tail end of cyclone Debbie was still upon us on Easter friday so we lit the fire that evening and recouped on the year just past over a few wines with the occasional foray into local history (o.k. a bit of local gossip).  We didn’t have to start thinking about food at all as aunty Kate had that all covered.

Every year now when I return to Westport (my turangawaewae) I feel a sense of nostalgia, joy and sadness all at the same time and awe at this beautiful place that I took for granted growing up as a child.   In my lifetime this place seems to have stood still in time.

 

On Sunday night we celebrated Corien 51 birthday with a party.  Corien friends Fiona & Max and Faye & Dave joined us for panoramic garden BBQ complete with banjo and line dancing.   

 

We had two days of magnificent weather clear and dry.  We joined forces for the traditional family “trawling for flounder” down the Okari river, went down the main street to check out the shops, walked the Cape Foulwind coastal track (checking out the seal colony on the way), watched Lucy, Jacco and Ari rip up the waves at Tauranga Bay, had a communal coffee at the Bayhouse and dined at  Cape  Foulwind’s Star Tavern.

 

Looking forward to doing it all again next year.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wangapeka Tramp, 2017

 

With our Westport reunion behind us my wife Corien and I, accompanied by our son Jacco and  his girlfriend Ariana, headed off to tramp the Wangapeka track.  The Wangapeka track runs from the little Wanganui valley at Karamea over the alps and through to Tapawera in the Motueka valley.  The weather forcast was for heavy rain on Tuesday and Wednesday and easing through to Sunday.  We drove two cars through to the Karamea end leaving one car at the little Wanganui river carpark and drove the 4 hours through the beautiful Buller gorge to the other end of the track (up the Mutueka valley.

 

The Wangapeka track is a spectacular (slightly rugged) walk over 65km ascending two mountain passes which take you into rugged gorged headwaters of the Wangapeka and Karamea rivers.  I walked this track when I was 17 with my mates Campbell Nicol, John Bevan, Richard Dickson and Stephen Oldham.  I still remember the rugged mountain tops extending uninterrupted forever when viewed from the mountain passes.  Please never destroy this magnificent vista with an ugly unnecessary road.  

 

The plan was to walk the track in 5 days taking our time to enjoy the backblocks.  This was not to be. We had to change our plans by turning back after two nights into the tramp.  It wasn’t worth taking the risks.  The mountains will always be there and we can always come back (hopefully before I cark it from natural causes).

 

Because of all the driving on the first day we had a late departure and didn’t leave the Rolling River car park and start get walking until 4pm on the first day.  At this time of year it gets dark by about 6.30pm so this meant we had to tramp the last 1.5 hours in the dark.  Walking on a track in the dark with a headlamp in the rain is challenge for old buggers like me and I slid off the track at one stage.  Fortunately Corien, Jacco and Ari were there to rescue me (thanks guys).   It was nice to arrive at Kings Hut and find we had the place to ourselves.

 

We also had a late morning start next day and only arrived at the next hut “Stone hut” at about 2.30pm.  It was pissing down all day and if we were to make it over the first saddle and down to Helicopter Flat hut in this same day we would again have to complete the walk in the dark.  That coupled with the heavy rain we decided to hunker down at Stone hut, light the fire, dry out, drink cups of tea, sleep, eat and play cards.  There are worst ways to spend a wet afternoon.

The rain never abated all that night and although it was warm dry and cosy in the hut we were worried that the rain would be worse on the West Coast side where a number of river crossings (by foot) would be required.

 

The next morning we made the decision to turn back and tramp the 3 hours back to the first hut (Kings Creek  hut) and spend the rest of the day there lighting the fire, drying out, drinking cups of tea, sleeping, eating and playing cards (we were starting to enjoy this routine).  As it turned out we spent some quiet time together in solitude and as we were to find out the reason for this was that no one else was able to make it into this end of the track due to the swollen rivers.

We walked out to the Rolling River car park the next day (still raining) and found that one of the fords (to get us back to civilisation) was impassable so we had to find shelter for the night.  As a warning to other tampers there are no shelters at this end of the track and the Farmer (Mr Vos the Dutchman) is not very hospitable towards trampers (no surprises there).  Don’t even expect shelter is his barn.  We found an open window in the secluded DOC headquarters and took refuge there for the two nights it took the ford to go down.

 

Things got interesting on day two of our return to the Rolling River end when we drove Jacco’s car the 11 km from the DOC hut to the unfordable ford to find that Jacco’s car alarm demobilizer battery had gone flat.   There were trampers on the other side of the river waiting to get over to our side and start the tramp so at 4pm Jacco sprang into action, armed with warm cloths, dead demobilizer battery and money and crossed the river by foot in order to persuade the trampers on the other side to take him into Tapawera (one horse town) in order to buy this very specialised battery.  His usually well-honed persuasive techniques didn’t work and he returned back with and even stranger looking battery and a very small length of wire to power up his demobilizer.  We then realised we had another problem.  His tiny spent demobilizer battery was 12 volts and the one he had just acquired was only 1.5 volts (bugger).  We both looked at each other with the same thought in mind.  We knew where another (slightly larger) 12 volt battery was hiding (under the bonnet).  I just happened to have a coil of wire so we wired her up and away she went.  That saved us a two hour walk back in the rain to the DOC hut (whew!).  

Something which was really encouraging about this tramp was the prolific native bird life we saw and heard.  The forest was a chorus of song (even in the rain).  The only other place that I’ve heard such volumes of bird calls is on  Mayor island (Tuhua) of the coast of Tauranga.   I saw more blue duck (Whio) on this tramp than in all the last 40 years of tramping previously about a dozen sightings (well done Doc and volunteers).  All in all nothing really went to plan on this tramp but we had a very (apart from a few stress moments) relaxing time (when out of the rain).  We’ll have to knock this bugger off another time.