I’ll drink to that
There’s water, water everywhere — but take plenty to drink, says
Gasping for breath, I stumble up the path, my feet heavy under the weight of my pack. The morning is still cool, but already my shirt is drenched in sweat. Ahead, I can see an orange trail marker, a message scrawled on it. “You’re nearly halfway,” it says.
Normally I’d find this encouraging, but today it’s demoralising. The problem? I’m nowhere near halfway. I’ve been walking for only 20 minutes and still have eight more hours to go.
Quite frankly, I should have seen this coming. Usually when you tell other outdoor enthusiasts about your plans to tackle a trail, they’ll get excited and enthuse about its best bits. But when I told people I was tramping the Bay of Island’s Cape Brett Track, a strange look came across their faces.
“Bring lots of water,” is all they said. Now, only 1km in, I understand why. The poetic would describe the 16.5km Cape Brett Track as “undulating”. The pragmatic would describe it as “unrelenting”.
Whereas most trails reward hikers with level stretches of ridgeline after big climbs, Cape Brett doesn’t do flat. Instead, its elevation chart bears striking resemblance to a patient going into cardiac arrest.
But these peaks and ridges are part of what makes Ra¯ kaumangamanga such an important site in New Zealand — and one well worth visiting.
“Our tupuna likened the peaks to the flotilla of waka during the great migration,” says Kipa Munro, of Nga¯ ti Kuta and a DoC cultural adviser. The headland’s crystalline rocks reflected light, he explains, acting as a beacon for new arrivals. Recent archaeological digs at nearby Moturua Island support this narrative; evidence indicates that the Bay of Islands is one of the first places Polynesians arrived in New Zealand, around 1300AD.
Hundreds of years later, Cape Brett’s lighthouse served a similar function.
First lit in 1910, it was staffed for nearly 70 years, with more than 100 keepers and their families living in isolation at the end of the peninsula. Thanks to Cape Brett’s importance to both Ma¯ ori and European history, it’s now been named a Tohu Whenua site — a place that shaped our nation — by Heritage New Zealand.
Seeing it is easier said than done though, as it's only accessible by foot or boat. When I finally spot the lighthouse’s white facade, the beads of sweat on my face are joined by tears of joy.
I spend the night in the lighthouse keeper’s house (now a DoC hut) and the next day, rather than trekking the full way back, I cheat by walking to Deep Water Cove. A short water taxi ride later and I’m back in Ra¯ whiti. In the carpark, I see a couple putting on their packs.
“How’s the track?” they ask.
I freeze, not sure how to respond. The Cape Brett Track is unlike any tramp I’ve ever done. It’s not for the faint of heart or the short of breath — and yet, I’d do it all again.
There’s only one real answer: “Bring lots of water.”
For New Zealand travel ideas and inspiration, go to newfinder.co.nz and newzealand.com