The Bay of Islands: Day One

If I have to be completely honest, I feel like I’m on one long, extended vacation. A well deserved one at that; in my opinion at least. Our group from Loyola has already been on one major excursion to the Bay of Islands. This trip ended up being so exciting that I couldn’t possibly fit everything into one entry. So we’ll start at its beginning- Day One.

The day started out with a grueling 8:45 wake-up time to get underway, a morning hour that is rarely seen by any college student. So with half-open eyes and bobbling heads we boarded our bus to head up north, or as the native Maori (Mar-ree) people say, we headed down north- this is because New Zealand’s north island is shaped like a fish, with its tail being the most northern point of the island.

About four hours after leaving Auckland we arrived in Paihia, a small town in the Bay of Islands where our hostel was located. For lunch we ate at a place which as far as I could tell was called “Awesome Pizza, Seafood, & Steak”. Maybe not the most original name, but certainly accurate. The pizza was delicious and was not your typical pepperoni and cheese. Some were decorated with shrimp, pineapple, and a variety of other not-so-standard toppings. At one point I guessed that the chef was just throwing stuff on trying to keep up with our piranha-like feeding frenzy. My personal favorite was a pie that was topped with chunks of lamb (something like 5 lambs for every person in NZ), red peppers, cheese, pineapple, and barbecue sauce. Yummy.

The main activity of the day was a high speed boat trip called the Mack Attack, and while I don’t approve of lame gimmicky names, it proved to be adrenaline pumping. While cruising at speeds up to 90kmh and hitting giant swells that sent us a foot off our seats, we made our way up to the “Hole in the Rock”, which is one of the many tiny islands in the bay, but has been carved out by wind and wave.

Decked out in our wet gear.

We made our wave through the hole only after our skipper told us that recently a 42 ton piece of rock fell from the ceiling into the ocean. No big deal, we could only be pulverized like an egg being crushed by a cinder block if such an incident were to occur at the very moment of our passage. The air inside the hole was so thick and musky that when I stuck out my tongue I could taste the salt. The color of the water was that of indigo, and if I didn’t know any better, I would assume somebody had taken a blue light to the ocean floor and pointed straight up to create its calming glow that I was afraid would disappear if I blinked.

We made our way back to the docks with our rain jackets and rain pants soaked in salt from the giant waves we hit. Luckily I sat in the very front, so I got the biggest bumps without getting too drenched. I did however have more salt on my face than a bag of potato chips. Gross, I know.

To end our day we headed back to the hostel, and to top it off, we found a bar with a $2.50 pints. I don’t think the day could have gotten any better.

Our skipper with the "Hole in the Rock" in the background. Also known as Perry Island, named by Cpt. Cook.