Introducing yourself in the proper Māori way, the second of one’s cardinal points of identity, after your significant maunga (mountain), is the river (awa) that means everything to you. This can also extend to being any other kind of waterway – an estuary, a coastal channel, a lake system, a harbour.
The people who have Whangaruru Harbour, estuary and their catchment rivers in Te Tai Tokerau Northland must be especially blessed to have these as their stretches of water that matter. For they are exceedingly beautiful.
From Mimiwhangata Bay in the south to the feed of the idiosyncratic Racehorse River from the north, the long, southeast-facing harbour has havens aplenty. The nautical charts have the shores studded with anchorages, and on closer in-person on-boat inspection, there are many more. The valued nature of the inlet is further emphasised by the number of old pā sites lining both shores – six in one particular one-mile stretch alone, between Onohokoa (Bland Rocks) and Motukehua (Nops Islands.) It’s also a place of poetic place-naming – in both languages. [See strip map box of place names lining the harbour.]
And so it was that Lesley, Skyborne and I found ourselves exploring the upper reaches of Whangaruru. Its name means ‘bay of shelter’; and we needed exactly this after heading up the east coast north of Whangarei in stiff breezes.
Some more place name trivia: the name Whangaruru is a direct linguistic cognate with Honolulu in Hawaiian, naturally a related Polynesian language. I imagine the Whangaruru locals would chuckle at being considered the Honolulu of New Zealand…
Rounding up around the spectacularly jagged Rimariki and Motuwharariki (the Wide Berth Islands) and entering the wide berth of Mimiwhangata Bay, we felt we were entering the embrace of somewhere new and special. An added bonus for any sailors finding overnight anchorage. We were not alone, for in a cosy little bay just inside Paparahi Peninsula at the western end of the bay, and behind more sheltering islets, was a big raft-up of holiday cruising boats.
The next morning we visited the DOC campsite at Waikahoua, one of the beautiful golden sand beaches of Mimiwhangata. Where we found people relaxing in the most authentic manner. I especially admired the couple sitting side-by-side in deck chairs, looking out to the bay, and each reading an epic novel. Good on them.
Mimiwhangata has long been a restricted fishing area, a limited-take zone, and was the subject of study of its biodiversity for nigh on 50 years by the late, great marine biologist Dr Roger Grace. In this regard, it has been used in comparison to the nearby Poor Knights Islands, which changed from being a limited take area in 1981 to becoming a full marine reserve. As we all know, the Poor Knights blossomed into a world-renowned dive destination. Such dramatic transformation hasn’t been observed at Mimiwhangata, showing that limited-take areas are not nearly as effective at restoring biodiversity as real marine reserves. Apart from all their other summer hols leisure pursuits – with kayaks, sailing dinghies, stand-up paddleboards, windsurfers – the campers at Waikahoua weren’t kitted out for snorkelling or scuba-diving.
Though on our way back to Skyborne in the rubber dinghy, we were startled by a tākapu gannet diving into the water right by us. When the bird surfaced, it had an over-large mullet struggling in its beak. We were mystified how the gannet might be able to swallow such a huge breakfast. Another gannet did too, and immediately joined in fighting the first catcher for a share of the spoils. The barney continued long enough for Lesley to retrieve her camera from its waterproof bag and get the shot of the over-successful hunter paddling away, and – somehow, astonishingly – getting the still wiggling fish down its gullet. With its payload, it couldn’t take off again for some time, though.
While we upped anchor and took off northwards for a tiki tour of the harbour, culminating in an Up the Creek adventure in the Racehorse River. Which, as the classic Pickmere’s Atlas of hand-drawn family maps tells us, ‘…sometimes has a double tide, the tide may rise for two hours then recede rapidly for a short period before returning to full tide.’
But that’s quite a way away. It’s about seven nautical miles up Whangaruru Harbour from the sands of Mimiwhangata to the mangroves at the mouth of the quirky river. And much to check out in between.
Like the lovely seaside settlements lining Helena Bay, flanked, almost ominously by some Russian oligarch’s getaway pad at the northern side of the bay. With all its windows shut by thick roll-down blinds (obviously the billionaire and co weren’t in residence), it kinda glowered at the bay. Though everyone else along these shores, Kiwis enjoying their high summer holidays, reflected quite the opposite. Dads in their recreational fishing boats taking time out to provide squealing thrills for the kids by towing them on those rubber-raft armchairs or donuts; sea kayaks and windsurfers everywhere; and here’s a couple just cruisin’ on a classic Phase Two dinghy, complete with sails patched with gaffer tape. At Ohawini Bay, the greatest collection of RV campervans I’ve ever seen, glittering in the January sunlight. A wee ways further up, we admired the floating swimming platform, that sported a kids’ slide which would deliver said patrons straight into the briny. And, naturally, baches and whanau tents-in-the-gardens everywhere.
About two-thirds of the way up the harbour, just by Motukauri Island, port and starboard marker posts appear. The harbour is still plenty wide at this point, narrowing thereafter to about 400m across.
Further up, at Tamateatai headland on the western shore, we come to the launching ramp at the end of Whangaruru Wharf Road, and a flash new Coastguard base and boathouse, rebuilt just last year.
According to the Coastguard website, Whangaruru ‘is a small unit with a large operating area’ conducting searches and rescues from Cape Brett in the north, east to the Poor Knights Islands 20 miles offshore, and down to Whananaki in the south. In this way they link with the Coastguard units at Tutukaka and the Bay of Islands. They have a lively and active Facebook page, clearly a cornerstone of the small local community.
And one of the world’s best ropes swings from an old pōhutukawa tree. At a charming and tiny beach park, an interp sign tells us the stories of the wharves and the bach community here.
A first wharf was built here in about 1890, for loading kauri logs bound for Sydney, Australia. But a price crash in that timber soon after meant the logging stopped and the wharf was dismantled in 1893, and re-purposed to build a woolshed. A second wharf was built in 1926, to much relief by the locals. The sign carries a quote: “The wharf is a salvation to our district,” noted H Birch in 1929. That’ when baches started appearing here, at a lease of only one pound per year for a waterfront location. By 1940, there was a store, and daily deliveries of cream to the wharf by truck. Trouble is, the wharf was washed away by a tsunami in 1960. The leases were left to expire after 1994, and most of the original modest baches were dismantled. The end of an era. One of the baches was well-known as a honeymoon cottage. In 2007 it was moved to Helena Bay.
We anchored Skyborne just off where the wharf once was, amid a small local collection of moored boats; and did the last bit to Racehorse River in the dinghy. We went up at the top of the tide; but didn’t experience the double tide on our day, threading our way between families enjoying waterskiing in the protected reach.
Just as I was remarking how little livestock there appeared to be on the hills, on cue three horses came galloping over the skyline. True story!
In the Racehorse River, an avenue of really, really big mangrove trees, we encountered a family on a kayak outing. They had come downriver from their farm-stay holiday. The kids were having the best fun. So were we.
Whangaruru Harbour. It’s a worthy place to visit by boat. Great anchorages aplenty. And a splendid Up the Creek adventure in all.
A litany of lovely names – landmarks & refuges of Whangaruru Harbour
Going north up the western shore
• Mimiwhangata Bay (anchorage in S & SW winds)
• Waiorakau Creek
• Omaha Islets
• Paparahi Peninsula
• Okurekureia Beach (anchorage in S & SW winds)
• Ngawai Bay (anchorage in S & SW winds)
• Te Mimiha (anchorage in S & SW winds)
• Helena Bay (anchorage in W & NW winds)
• Mohei Bay
• Motukehua (Nops Islands)
• Mokau (anchorage)
• Onohokohea (Bland Rocks)
• Oakura Bay (anchorage in W winds. Shop and Skips Fish ‘n’ Chips)
• Watengarahi Beach (anchorage in W winds)
• Okiore (Rugged Point)
• Parutahi Beach
(favoured anchorage in Pickmere’s Atlas in S & SW winds)
• Ohawini Bay (anchorage in W winds)
• Motukowhai
• Tangakiri Beach (anchorage in SW & W winds)
• Puaruku (mangrove inlet)
• McQuarie Bay (old baches harbour endowment)
• Tamateatai (peninsula at end of Whangaruru Wharf Road)
• Taiwhatiwhati (tidal reach leading to Racehorse River)
Going south down the eastern shore
• Rewarewa (mangrove inlet off Racehorse River)
• Ko Ohaere (mangrove inlet and mudflats opposite Tamateatai peninsula at end of Whangaruru Wharf Road)
• Tepipi (anchorage in N & E winds off Whangaruru Wharf Road)
• Tuparehuia Bay (anchorage in N winds)
• Sandy Bay Kirikiri (anchorage in E winds)
• Teparapara Picnic Bay (anchorage in E winds)
• Te Wharawhara Bay (Puriri Bay favoured anchorage in Pickmere’s Atlas in E & NE winds)
• Whakapakara (Admirals Bay favoured anchorage in Pickmere’s Atlas in S & SW winds)
• Pararaunui (North Head of the harbour)
Further Information
• Mimiwhangata and Whangaruru maps in
Pickmere’s Atlas – maps 22 and 23
• New Zealand’s Northland Coast,
David Thatcher, page 64
• Whangaruru Coastguard Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/whangaruru.coastguard
• Whangaruru Whanau Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/groups/131690276841662
• The Farm – accommodation and camping
in the Racehorse River valley
www.thefarm.co.nz info@thefarm.co.nz
