Canadian Canoeing Down the Puhoi

The Maori, when first arriving upon the shores of New Zealand centuries ago, did so in large sea-faring canoes. Not the typical kind of canoe that we see on the lakes in Ontarian cottage country. This leads to the distinction between “canoe” and “Canadian canoe.” When Emily and I saw the opportunity to take a Canadian canoe down the Puhoi River (map below), we grabbed our paddles – as all Canadians travel with their canoe paddles – and took to the water.

I think a couple things attracted us to canoeing in New Zealand. One, we had the choice to either kayak or canoe and since adding kayaks to our cottage a few years ago, we haven’t canoed as much. Also, it we thought it would be fun to canoe somewhere completely unfamiliar with different terrain – we’re used to lakes and cliffs and forest, but here we got rivers and rolling hills and the occasional marsh. I think the little taste of home – and Canada in general – was also nice as we took our canoe paddles and felt the familiar push against the water.

After a half hour trek through Wenderholm Regional Park (about an hour away from Auckland, New Zealand’s largest city), we met the people from whom we were renting the canoe. We got into the canoe, they gave us our paddles, then asked:

                “So, have you ever been in a Canadian canoe before?”

                “Yeah, we’re Canadian.”

                “Oh. Well I won’t bother giving you the lesson.”

Then we were pushed off down the Puhoi River. Our canoe was bright yellow and plastic, much opposite from our quarter-century-old (right? Mom and Dad?) green, fibreglass-and-wood (right? Mom and Dad) canoe in which our parents paddled us around Ontario when we were little. I had no plastic toy ship to drag alongside the boat, no sandwich on homemade bread in a Tupperware container, and certainly no father at the stern taking his paddle and holding it over my neck letting cold water dribble down my back. So it was a different experience, but with Emily and her handy J-stroke steering the canoe and me with my ox-like work ethic (ha), we got along just fine.

For about the first ten minutes. Then, the navigator in the bow might have led the vessel into some shallow waters. He probably should have taken the bushes growing out of surface as a hint, but instead he optimistically said, “We’ll be fine.”

We were not. We didn’t sink or anything, but I did have to get out of the canoe and step onto the muddy riverbed. This mud was more like a sponge, though, and the texture on my feet made me cringe… and I was very vocal about my displeasure (in a fun sort of way) as I tried to correct my mistake by dragging the canoe into deeper waters. I was convinced that it was quicksand and I was going to die. I did not.

ANYWAY, the rest of the trip went fairly well. We had beautiful weather, a lot of food (they suggested taking a picnic for before or after the paddle, but we expertly ate during), and the incoming tide made the paddling pretty easy. A few hiccups along the way: I missed announcing some sticks in the river which we may or may not have hit, some ducks took off from within overhanging foliage and I legitimately screamed for all of New Zealand to hear, and my sister “accidentally” splashed me with water when I was acting like a GPS (in response to the aforementioned stick problem). We said hello to some passing kayakers, too.

                “Is this what they call a Canadian canoe?”
                “Yep! And we’re Canadian!”

                “OH! How APT!”

Clearly our human interaction is thrilling.

So yeah. A great day. Canoeing. In New Zealand. Who would have thought? Some pictures below for your enjoyment (we didn’t bring Emily’s DSLR just in case we tipped over… but with such expert canoeists, that was HARDLY a worry! [Sarcasm intended. It was most definitely a worry.] Instead we took my point-and-shoot [which we diligently wrapped in a grocery bag] and my waterproof GoPro. Ok, enough parentheses and brackets, enjoy the pictures.)

Just a couple Canadians in a canoe.