Tawharanui Park

Catching up on last weekend's adventure, I took a trip to a park called Tawharanui (the wh is pronounced like ph or f). This is a lovely park about 25 minutes down the road from Leigh, after you take into account the dirt road and babying my poor 96 honda civic. The road down, as with many of the roads in New Zealand so far, winded it's way through the hills, past herds of cattle and wineries, and some spectacular views. There were several small communities on sheltered bays that appeared to have no other entrance other than a well marked Private property sign leading over the hill and into the brush.

After a good 45 minutes of stopping, taking pictures, easing my way down through a heavily forested area that often reminds me of Jurassic Park, I emerged to a view of my destination, Tawharanui Park. It kind of felt like Irving nature park in a way, a hilled protrusion into the ocean but a bit more trimmed in the forest department. You also travel along the edge of a beach to gain access to it.

My first real stop was Jones Beach, a beautiful long expanse of cobble shoreline that reminded me oh so well of many of the smaller beaches at home. Not a grain of sand in sight, but a sediment about with large five to 10 centimeter polished cobbles. The wave action there was churning and polishing rocks at the waters edge, creating my favorite sound in the world, that of cobbles settling and water rushing between them to escape back into the vast ocean.

There was a small amount of bedrock around the edges of the beach which I explored briefly. This was evidently a harsh environment, waves having a tremendous power which carved great gouges and eroded away all but the hardest rock. The animals living here were hardy species capable of surviving the pounding surf. Small barnacles, the hardy Nerites snail, and a few chitons made up the majority of this community assemblage. Being ever on the lookout for crustaceans, I did find the rugged purple shore crab, not surprisingly a species capable of existing outside of the water for long periods and living wedged into crevices where it would not be swept away by the surging tide.

This beach was probably my favorite beach I had found up till this point, and the sound is so relaxing I am sure this will be an area I will be returning to, if only to listen to the waves. As I was leaving I noticed that the cobbles were even built right into the bank, making me wonder how much had this beach changed to have cobbles built up this high, held together by the soil and roots of grass.

After passing through a unique gated system that was in place to try and keep small invasive mammals out, I entered a fielded area of sheep, fences and hills. Behind my beautiful Jones Beach was a lagoon, an area filled with birds, creating a cacophony of calls from ducks and sparrows alike. Pied Shags and Little Shags (basically a cormorant) were drying their wings on every small island and branches. A neat one for you Andrew and Greg, this rather long billed duck known as an Australasian Shoveler. I can honestly say I have never seen any duck quite like this one!

After startling most of the ducks and a few of the shags, I decided to take the trail marked to go down on the other side of Jones Beach. I went through a beautiful marshland area over to the farmed hill where one of the trails literally lead over and through the pastures. There was an interesting sign on the fence which basically outline the reasons why it is good to have farmland in reserves, which basically means park (more like Rockwood than Fundy National). I particularly enjoyed the first rational, cheap and easy lawn mowing!

After veering away from the fence I started on my trail, if you can call it that. It quickly narrowed to be not much more than a one foot wide path at best, perched precariously upon a hillside. I followed it for a short while but eventually the path started to look a bit like this...

After realizing that one bad step could result in me sliding painfully through brush into the water some twenty to thirty meters below, surely ruining my camera and my cheerful disposition, I decided to turn around and leave that trail for any stray mountain goats, but before I left I took a few nice parting glances at the wonderful Jones Bay.

Being now tired and my ankles sore from the treacherous hiking I attempted, I almost decided to call it a day, but thankfully didn't. I got back to the car and continued further into the park. There were evident walking trails, far more clearly laid, running all over the island. I left those adventures for another day and hobbled poor Rosey over some speed bumps to a parking lot at the end of the road. This was an area called Anchor Bay, and I was definitely in for a treat! I wandered over a hill, through some large conifers to a beautiful sight, probably the most gorgeous beach I have ever seen.

 I wondered down what was not a hill but a dune onto the beach. Soft, white sand made up the majority of the beach, with a few small, smooth rocks and shells mixed in on the flats. The beach was naturally broken up by a few small rock outcroppings appearing as islands stranded on a beach, and a few small headlands thrusting out into the sea which was fighting back and eroding holes into the hillsides.

I wondered west along the beach just soaking it all in, and honestly, there are few words I can come up with to describe the true majesty and mysticism of this stretch of coastline. So I just kept taking pictures, so many so that I had to go back and delete ones that didn't look fantastic to make room on my memory card.

Once I ventured east, I discovered that erosion had created some natural caves and, going out of character, I found myself spelunking again. Most were small caves, with an entrance and exit where water followed cracks in the rock, undercutting the bank. They just added a certain wonder to the area, and at a risk of sounding self-centered, it was as if they had been carved for to walk through and discover, I didn't even have to duck for most of them. Some even undercut into other cave systems, dark tunnels that conjured images of pirate hoardings only accessible at low tide.

At this point the a bit of rain started to spit, and the light started to diminish, signalling the need to get on the road before it got dark, as it does so quickly and early this time of year. I headed up the beach and took a wonderful look back through the dunes at this magical place that clearly won me over with regards to the best beach I have ever been on. That was the end of my journey through Tawharanui, but certainly not to be my last!

I took a trip into Auckland this week, and I will update that tomorrow. I will leave you with my favorite shot of the beach from that great day. I miss you all.