Bad Case of Wanderlust (My Trip Around the World): Cream Trip on the Bay of Islands (Feb 7th)

The girls and I had stayed on in Pahia an additional day, in hopes that the forecast for gloriously clear weather would manifest, and we were not disappointed. Noelle and Franca decided to spend the day at the beach, while I opted for a day cruise of the Bay, figuring that since it was called the Bay of Islands, I ought to get out there and see some of them.

When I first arrived at the dock, I became worried, seeing only middle-aged and senior citizens about me. Fortunately, a few younger folks soon joined the line, and I quickly made friends with a Swiss girl named Karen and a Canadian named Kirsten. We sat on the top deck as our affable captain steered us into the bay. Just half an hour in, dolphins had been spotted by another ship. We arrived in time to see a whole pod cavorting in the deep. I had paid $30 extra for the opportunity to swim along with them, so after snapping two hurried photos, I donned a mask and flippers and jumped into the frigid water with twenty or so other passengers

From aboard the boat, the remaining passengers stood at the rails, pointing and shouting at us when the dolphins came near. Swimmers shifted and dove manically to catch glimpses of them under the water. The first time one passed by mean, I felt an unexpected jolt of fear. For one thing, no matter how different you know they are from sharks, your first instinct tells you that they look a hell of a lot alike. Secondly, these were not the same breed I had seen in the National Aquarium back in Baltimore; they were much bigger than I'd expected, far more wild, and not the standard sleek grey, but a mottled black and white. But all of these aspects only added to the excitement.

A few meters from me, two of the dolphins put on quite a show, flipping in the air over and over, at one point doing so in perfect synchronicity in opposing directions. Sadly, I couldn't photograph any of this, as I watched from in the water, but what happened next made being in the water so very worth it. No one seemed to notice three of the pod heading toward me. I dove under, ignoring my snorkel, and began flipping around beneath the surface. My poor attempt at dolphin entertainment worked, and they stayed. For somewhere between a minute and 90 seconds, I spun around and contorted myself as bizarrely as possible while the three of them swam above, below, and around me, singing and spinning as well. I darted to the surface twice for air, and the second time, they lost interest at my return and moved along.

Emerging from the water invigorated, I changed out of my damp suit immediately and declined the offer to buy pictures of our frolic for an additional exorbitant fee. I sat back on the top deck with Karen and Kirsten, giddily praising each teal-colored cove into which the boat ducked, made all the more sensational by my lingering high.

The captain provided ample information on the Maori history of the islands, as well as of the Kiwi settlement, and entertained us with goofy stories. At one point, explaining how possums had been introduced for the sake of the fur trade but had proven more troublesome than valuable, eating all of the local plant life and breeding like their rabbit cousins, he informed us of the nationally-accepted solution to dealing with the now rampant pests: "Basically, if you see one on the road, run the bugger down!"

Halfway through our day, we pulled into a picturesque port on a small farming island for lunch.

I munched on the sandwich and fruit Franca has sweetly prepared for me that morning and snapped photos of the many birds about the shore.

At the last possible moment, I decided to use the last half an hour of our lunch to hike up to the lookout point in the center of the island. Karen decided to join me, and we practically jogged up the hill in our effort to reach and descend from the summit before our boat departed.

The view at the top merited the effort, but we could only enjoy it for a moment. We literally ran down the first, blessedly smooth, 50 meters, hopped the fence of a local sheep farm, and reached the boat just as the captain sounded the 5-minute departure warning.

Only one major site remained: the Hole in the Rock, a sometimes traversable tunnel naturally cut into the base of very large freestanding monolith at the top of the bay. We arrived to find the water churning furiously and refusing admittance, but we got close enough for photos. Unfortunately, one particularly violent swell sent water flying up onto the decks, and my camera got soaked as a result. I laid it out in the sun to dry and hoped for the best.

The route back took us past more lovely vistas and afforded the opportunity for "boom-netting" to those who wanted to try it. I declined, having gotten my fill of the decidedly chilly water during my dolphin swim, but I greatly enjoyed the spectacle of watching people being swept back and forth across the net, willy-nilly.

By 4pm, we had returned to Pahia, and I rejoined Franca and Noelle at the hostel. They had loaded up the car and made us some snacks, so we shortly piled in and got on the road. We spent the journey laughing and chatting and enjoying the gorgeous scenery, illuminated brilliantly by the setting sun.

Upon our return to Auckland, I dropped off the girls, parked the car, and met Thomas, my previous CS host, and Kiwi James for dinner and a drink. Afterward, James and I headed back to his house, where I passed out almost immediately upon entering.

The following morning, James and I hung out with his brother's pug, George, and visited his grandma-- James's, not George's.

On the way back, George made himself quite at home in my lap.

And the ride provided a fantastic view of Auckland.

That night, James went out to the weekly CS meet-up for a few drinks, but I didn't feel well, so I stayed behind and watched one of the most stunning sunsets I had ever seen from his balcony.