Beer bottles clinked to celebrate glimpses of the ocean as the almost-full moon emerged and receded back into the scurrying clouds showing a bay full of swell.
Three of us had learned to surf together in the most unlikely place - Dunedin - where when the heaters of our student-budget cars didn't work we had to drive home in our sleeping bags with our feet pushed through the bottom to work the pedals.
Holidays surfing in the Catlins and Invercargill launched the surfers' restless quest to find quality, uncrowded waves, a quest which over 15 years has seen all searching out waves around the globe, from Ireland to the Philippines, Indonesia to Fiji.
Our fourth member, having grown up on the East Cape, has surfing deeply ingrained. Following our trip he was planning his next sojourn to Indonesia for a month surfing tropical waves, before heading to Europe, intent on settling down in France's surf capital Hossegor.
Campground is a term that must be used loosely for Te Kohanga at Shipwreck Bay. Ten years before, we gave koha to the local tangata whenua to stay in this same field, then bare grass mowed by horses; now there is a long-drop toilet, a cold shower open to the elements and a little shack without power optimistically termed "Office". The place is manned by Hone Mare and his companion Sandy, who charge $5 a head for the privilege of staying. Cats and dogs wander about and one, a little terrier, disrespectfully held our gaze as he cocked his leg and peed on our surfboards. We fell about laughing.
First light saw us pulling on wetsuits that would never quite dry out again for the rest of the weekend. At Shipwreck there are many more left-hand breaks (breaking from left to right) around the rocks which require low tide and a four-wheel drive vehicle, but the camper, surprisingly agile though it was, certainly wasn't built for adventures of that kind. No matter: with swell of this size the waves would break right into the bay all weekend.
Our first surf of the trip was an unexceptional warm-up for what was to follow. We returned to the camper to duck out of the rain and cook scrambled eggs and beans on toast and play cards. Someone told us the periscopic piece of steel protruding from the beach in the bay was the remains of the paddle steamer The Favourite which foundered there in 1870. Behind us the Office hosted an all-day hui of local Maori who dragged the couches out into the sunlight and were chased back inside again as the weather worsened.
Sure enough, as the tide receded, the waves began to take on a steeper profile and break further from the rocks. By midday the wind had turned properly offshore and the waves were reeling along the point, an almond-shaped barrel the junction between the whitewater and the open face. Locals were arriving in droves as the news spread. We wasted no time in getting stuck in.
With a current sweeping around the point running at the speed of a decent-sized river, trying to maintain your position in the line-up is a fruitless and exhausting exercise. By far the better option is to catch the first wave that looms, leaving it to chance as to whether it be an all-time howler or a shorter, less intense ride, surf it all the way to shore and then hop out and run back around the point. Jumping off the rocks into the surf requires experience, as an ill-timed leap ends up with the loss of some skin on the barnacle-encrusted point.
This was surfing heaven but, as yet another huge front obliterated the last of the day's light, there was nothing for it but to head inland to Bidz Takeaways at Ahipara Village. A little bird had told us about the delights of the steak and oyster burger. It turned out to have both the absorptive and refuelling qualities required.
Returning to Te Kohanga and killing the engine, the contentment was palpable. Exhausted, warm and well fed. Beer bottles clinked.
Further information:
For surf forecasts, check www.surf2surf.co.nz or www.surf.co.nz. For Britz campers visit www.britz.co.nz or phone 0800 831900.
James Russell went surfing with help from Britz New Zealand.
