Exploring New Zealand's East Coast

Does this count as a selfie?

It had rained as I slept. The sky was still overcast and threatened further downpour as I pulled out of the turnoff where I had spent the night. Ocean Beach was my first destination, as recommended by a local out of Napier the night before. Hopefully I would score.

Ocean Beach is hardly what I expected. It consists of approximately 5 permanent residential structures and two to three more trailers, all parked in front of a rather desolate stretch of beach, lined by green grassy hills from horizon to horizon. There were certainly waves. And current. Lots of it. The swell had arrived as predicted, but the wind was uncooperative. For those of you who don't surf, that means a near impossible paddle through heaving white water. There were no clear sets, just choppy white caps giving up their foam to the stormy skies. I decided to brave the paddle in hopes of finding that single drop in.

I didn't make it very far. The disorganized waves seemed to conspire to push me back to shore as my shoulders burned with futile effort. The current swept me down the beach several hundred yards in a matter of minutes. Exhausted and panting, I finally left the water and trudged back up the beach. And tried again.

This time, I waited and watched the waves first. I did what I should have done from the beginning: Observed the ocean before choosing how to attack. I found what looked like a patch of deep water that might provide a rip out past the breaking waves and waited for a lull in the sets. My patience paid off and I was soon past the white water, waiting for my first wave.

There were no clean lines, no curling lips. Only moving peaks that might provide a drop and a two or three second ride. But it was enough. I was in the water. Looking back at shore provided a beautiful if somewhat gloomy backdrop of ominous sky and mountain tops.

As I waited for a wave to come my way, I began to notice that the rip that had so conveniently taken me past the break was now dragging me even farther out to sea. Already tired from the exertion of making it this far, I became nervous about being taken out so far. I began to paddle back towards the beach and found it almost as difficult to make it back in as it was to get out. But an obliging wave came through and provided me with both my exit and a fun little ride back to the beach.

Surfing wasn't so successful, but this log provided a few good long exposures.

I decided to call it quits, based on the conditions and opted to use the morning for exploration and photography of the beach before driving on to Waimarama.

A 15 second exposure from Waimarama Beach towards Bare Island.

Waimarama was only slightly more surfable than Ocean Beach and it wasn't long before I was out of the water and taking pictures again. I was able to take the picture below using my new 10 stop neutral density filter from hitech. Unfortunately, there was a lot of light leak, something that the filter received mixed reviews about online. The corners of the image were covered in flares of bright vignetting. I was forced to crop a large bottom section out and spend a lot of time with a healing tool to fix the top corners. The end result was still quite satisfying for my first try at a daytime long exposure.

I spent a good portion of the afternoon walking up and down the beach, drawing curious looks from locals as I waded around in my wet suit with a heavy tripod and camera. As the afternoon grew to a close, I stripped out of my wetsuit, and prepared to head to Castlepoint 4 hours down the coast.

 

 

Tierra del Fuego (Plains of Fire)

Glacier at Puerto Moreno.

The next morning we woke early, excited for our journey to begin. We had arranged for a rental car the night before, and while we waited for it to arrive, we invited anyone who was awake to come along. A Canadian, Khalil Rihane, who we had not really gotten to know yet, decided he had nothing else better to do and packed his belongings just as the rental car showed up to the hostel. Little did he know, he was in for a wild ride.

Soon enough, we were on the road and headed south. A note that will become important later in the story is that Felix had no license and didn't really know how to drive. On any account, I took first turn at the wheel and soon we were surrounded by the foothills of the Andes.

Our plan was to drive south, see the glaciers (largest in South America) at Puerto Moreno, and then drive into Chile. From there, we would have to take a ferry to Tierra del Fuego, and pass back into Argentina.

The weather quickly turned frigid as we continued south, and soon it was painful to get out of the car. I did not take too many photographs during the trip, and the ones that I did take were rushed in order to get out of the cold.

That night, we did not stop, because there were no places to stay before we reached the desert. Oil had recently been struck and men had flocked from all over Argentina in the hope of finding work. We back tracked over 100 miles in search of a town with a single vacancy. We were unsuccssful, so drove to the end of the tundra, filled our car with gas and hoped for the best. Civilization ended for the next 450-500 miles. We didn't know if we would be able to make it on a single tank of gas, but we decided to chance it.

All of us were exhausted, and after we had all taken a turn at the wheel, we decided to risk letting Felix drive. We were awoken to the sensation of spinning not much later. As I looked out of the window, I saw the world rushing past, spinning out of control. The road had turned to ice in the night, and Felix, having little experience driving, had continued to travel well over 90 mph regardless of the ice. I thought, rightfully so, that we were about to die. Miraculously, the car remained on all four wheels and we found ourselves in a shallow ditch on the left side of the road. 5th gear was no longer fully operable, but we were able to continue on.

I am going to keep this post brief for now, as I didn't write much in my journal during that time. The details are fuzzy as to what places we saw in what order. I will repost when my fellower travelers fill in some of the blanks for me. For now, I will leave you with this picture of Broos, right before we were arested by the National Park rangers for jumping the fence to explore around the glacier:

An Introduction

My name is Wesley Neill, and if you are reading this, I am probably dead.

Ok, maybe not. This is my blog. My mother once gave me a leather bound travel journal to take with me during my constant (insofar as time and money allowed) globe trotting. I was sometimes faithful in recording the events of my day, and sometimes not. Sometimes, I just didn't want my mother to know how much drinking (a very cultural activity) I'd been doing, if she ever happened on my journal and got curious. Don't worry, I'm on the wagon now, mom!

Well, this is to be the digital version of that travel journal, from here on out. I soon embark on my career as a U.S. Naval Officer. Here you will find my experiences , photographs of my travels, and really anything else that I find interesting or useful. I hope to keep my family and friends up to date, and perhaps to provide a resource for other travellers and fellow sailors to get ideas about places to live, places to visit and what to expect as a junior officer in the navy in general.

If you are reading this, you are probably family or friend. Hi mom! If not, there is a link to my profile somewhere on the right. Check it out!