Waka ama Warriors tackle Sugar Loaf

The Sugar Loaf Challenge is billed as the country's premier ocean-going waka ama race, a 35km paddle from Tutukaka and circling the Sugar Loaf Island in the Poor Knights Marine Reserve. It was on a bucket list of things to do for reporter Kristin Edge.
 
AS THE bow of the waka surges through the waves at the entrance of the Tutukaka harbour, my heart pounds in my chest.
I can't see our target.
It's the Sugar Loaf Island - usually a small, rocky silhouette on the horizon.
Apparently it's home to a colony of gannets.
But today rolling 2m swells rise up and obscure our target.
My team, Mitamitaga Girls, are 10 minutes into a 35km waka ama race that will eventually take us four hours 15 minutes and 52 seconds to complete.
We're kitted out with our hydration systems and carbo shots (no bananas allowed on this waka named Ngunguru).
Sprayskirts stop a bulk of the waves coming in and we have lifejackets, flares, a tow rope and spare paddles.
It's not just a physical battle - this race is sure to test any paddler's mental fortitude and, as it turns out, sealegs.
My teammates and I have trained on flat seas for weeks prior to the race.
But Murphy's Law prevails and on race day the sea gods have decided they want some entertainment. They've sent in the wind and whipped up washing machine sea plus huge swells.
The last time the race was staged was in 2006 but since then weather conditions have prevented it from being run.
There's no turning back and the adrenaline starts to pump.
Experienced paddler Henrietta Sakey is at the stern and has the massive responsibility of steering the whole race.
We are from various backgrounds - gym manager, policewoman, nurse, team leader for a disability group, leisure centre team leader and journalist - but we have come together for this adventure.
Once outside the harbour and into the sea, we bob up and down like a cork.
But somehow we manage to keep in time, with our blades passing up over the rough water and driving down to propel the waka forwards.
At stroke, Alma Quirey keeps pace. Behind her is experienced paddler Auriole Ruka, who knows this coastline well.
Every 12 strokes there is a "hut" called from Racheal Blackmore in seat three.
We make one more stroke on that side before changing sides. For the next four hours that will be our pattern. Back and forth, back and forth. Powering through the water.
I'm in seat four and it's my job to keep the team motivated and focused for the entire race, calling for more power and relaying messages from the steerer.
When I feel water around my ankles it's also my job to bail - that's empty the water out of the waka, not dive overboard.
Luana Telfer is in seat five and helps the steerer keep the ama - or outrigger part of the canoe - in the water and prevent us from flipping.
One of the event organisers, Shane Hohaia, made it clear at the race briefing to three women's and six men's teams if they didn't make it within two hours to the Sugar Loaf, they would be turned back.
"We're not out here not to be turned back," I yell to my team through the wind, as we buck and roll over the swell.
The waves are so big sometimes paddlers one and two are left grabbing at air as we rocket over the top and smash down on the other side.
It's not until we are about two-thirds of the way out that the dark mass of rock can be seen.
We punch through the pounding waves until finally the steep cliffs of Sugar Loaf island rear up out of the deep blue water. The waves seem even bigger and messier near the rock and the call for more power is made.
We ride round the rock with barely any time to look. I can see a gannet circling and, high up, a small tree clinging to the rocky cliffs.
The moment of elation at getting to the island is quickly gone as we are now faced with paddling home.
Just 20 minutes later and our stroke passes back the message she is seasick. But you won't see her getting into the support boat that has been tailing us for most of the race.
She plops into the sea and swims to seat five and we all shimmy up one spot.
Away we go, heading south for a while so we can use the north-running swell to take us home.
It's a while before I spot the harbour entrance and it seems to take an eternity for it to get any closer. About 3km out I too start to feel the effects of hours on the water and start dry retching.
I know Luana is feeling sick and Elma has fed the fish for some distance.
But we push through a harbour entrance that has chopped up real bad and claimed one waka team, which is being towed home.
I give one last call: "Whatever you've got left, dig deep and use it now."
The flat water inside Kowharewa Bay is a welcome relief. We steam to the finish line under our own power.
It's been a tough race and probably the toughest physical thing I have ever done. As we take our final stroke across the line I think: "I've knocked the bugger off!"