A Bit Mental

by Jimi Hunt

  When it was time to go to bed I was expecting a night on the couch, but they had a spare room with a queen-sized bed all made up and ready for me. This was surreal.

  DAY TWO: CASEY AND NICKI’S PLACE TO ATIAMURI

  I woke up the next morning ready to hit the water. Casey and Nicki cooked me breakfast. The crew turned up with a new Lilo and it was time to get back in the river. Today was interesting for the fact that it was not going to be interesting. We estimated doing around 30 kilometres each day, and after the excitement of the day before, the next 30 kilometres were going to be pretty uneventful. So, I started paddling.

  It wasn’t that interesting. The film crew had figured this out already, but the tagline for this adventure was ‘Ask for help’. This included asking for help from random people around the Waikato to get across the seven lakes that were created by the seven power stations on the river. This adventure wasn’t so much about me paddling every single stroke of every single metre of the Waikato River. It was more about me travelling the length of the river by Lilo, paddling most of it and being helped where I couldn’t paddle or needed somewhere to rest.

  I had always said that I was going to need help on the lakes, but Simon was impatient. Nothing was happening and he felt they were wasting a day of filming, so he devised a plan. Rachel, Fritha and Jono had come down to help out over the weekend, and Jono had brought his big jet ski with him. So there was Simon’s perfect scene in the making: two very attractive women pulling up to me on their jet ski and asking if I would like some help. They drop me a line and tow me down the river. There’s excitement, pretty girls and I get down the river faster to something more interesting . . .

  ‘Action!’ shouted Simon. So there I was, 10 metres behind a jet ski, holding on to a rope and my Lilo for dear life. I think we may have been going at between 30 and 50 kilometres per hour, but it felt like 200 kilometres per hour. It was quite a struggle. I was holding on as hard as I could, and as the shape of the Lilo created a plume that engulfed me entirely, all you could see of me was the shape of a watery rooster tail. I had to let go. Simon got his shot and I had my arms almost wrenched off. I had probably only travelled a couple of hundred metres but that was it, I was back to old-fashioned self-propulsion.

  Paddling, paddling, paddling . . . I was getting quite good at it. It was slow, surreal, a beautiful thing to do, and it was thought-provoking. Two days on the river and I’d had people around quite a bit, but I’d also spent some time alone. It dawned on me that my crazy hypno lady Caroline actually had made Jo leave my head just like she said she would. And with that quick thought of how I hadn’t actually thought of Jo, she was gone again from my mind.

  Through the Facebook page a lovely woman called Tina from the Pukeko and Bull Hotel in Atiamuri had offered to take in not only me but the whole crew as well. It meant a bit of a drive out from the river along State Highway 1, but we weren’t going to turn it down. So there we all were, hanging out in a roadside hotel. Tina was really nice. The place was ideal and I enjoyed hanging out with the crew. Nothing had really happened that day, but that was okay with me. I was on an adventure, which for me means having no idea of what will happen next.

  DAY THREE: ATIAMURI TO WHAKAMARU

  About 30 kilometres north of Taupo there is a sign to a place Kiwis tend to drive past. Here’s my tip—it’s worth turning left and driving the four kilometres to the tiny township of Orakei Korako. I paddled into Orakei Korako and from the water it looked stunning. On the opposite side of the river from the township there’s a hill with geothermal activity. We went over to have a look at the pink and white terraces of bubbling water and steam.

  After that, I was looking for the nudist colony that Casey and Nicki had told me about. It was officially known as Rotota Sun Club Inc, and I’d been told it wasn’t far down past the geysers. I paddled up to a dock about 30 metres from an outdoor spa full of what I suspected were naked people. The crew boat stayed well back. ‘Hi, my name is Jimi, I’m Lilo-ing the Waikato, would you mind if I got naked and joined you?’

  ‘Who’s in the boat?’ they asked.

  ‘That’s the film crew who are filming my adventure.’

  ‘No, sorry, we value our privacy here and don’t want you to come up. Please leave.’ There you have it, the first and only people who didn’t want to help the Lilo The Waikato adventure.

  Simon had other plans anyway that didn’t involve naked people. He asked if I was thirsty and when I said yes he told me to paddle to the middle of the lake. After a while, flying above the river that cuts between the hills on each side I saw a float plane and it was coming straight for me. It got closer, and closer, and closer . . . I was watching a plane about to run me over on the Waikato River. What the hell was going on?

  It landed a hundred or so metres short of me and kept driving straight towards me. Just before it got to me it veered slightly left, did a loop around me and came to a stop on my left. The cockpit door opened, a man got out onto the float and handed me a bottle of water. He got back in, shut the door and the plane took off. And that was that. Simon and Luke had organised a surprise to brighten the least interesting day of the trip for me. Guys, that was cool. And I felt lucky to have such an awesome team supporting me all the way along the river.

  The next thing to look for had also been recommended by Casey and Nicki. Past the nudist colony I was looking for an estuary where the water was warm. When I knew that I was in the right place I motioned to the crew to follow me in there. We pulled the boat up and tied it to a tree. Sure enough, the water coming out of the estuary was warm. Everyone hopped out and we started walking up the stream. Jordan grabbed a video camera and tucked in behind me. Casey and Nicki had called the place The Crack, and there it was . . . a vertical rock 10 metres high in front of us with a crack all the way to the top that had a stream coming through it. It was a bit of a squeeze to get through the crack—it was only about 30 centimetres wide—and let’s just say that if I hadn’t done a lot of CrossFit training I wouldn’t have made it through. The water level went from waist height to over my head. Jordan and I were in heaven. This was amazing. The water was getting warmer. It was quite dark down there, but occasional flickers of light found their way through the foliage. Looking up all we could see were trees.

  I could barely squeeze my Lilo through some of the tighter parts. Pressing on, we came out the other side of the rock into what looked like a scene from a nature documentary. I half expected to hear David Attenborough describing the flora and fauna in his dulcet tones.

  The stream was now only about a foot deep and the ferns from the bank on each side leaned over the water to touch in the middle, forming a perfect green archway. Again, I couldn’t see the sky. Further up the stream was something I hadn’t been expecting—another crack. This one was an even tighter squeeze than the first. As I was trying to squeeze through a particularly tight spot, an avalanche of rocks, dirt, branches and other assorted debris came barrelling down on top of me. I hadn’t really needed my helmet for the Full James Rapids but I wished I had it on then. The pristine water in the stream became murky with dirt. What the hell was going on?

  It turned out that Simon had been walking around above us with the rest of the crew and when he heard our voices he had ventured a little too close to the edge and slipped down a bank causing debris to fall—on me! Jordan, a couple of metres behind, was absolutely fine.

  We kept moving through the crack to the other side. There we found a small stream coming from the entrance to a three-metre-square cave. Inside the cave, coming in from the top, there was a waterfall, and the water was hot.

  We were all amazed, especially Simon and Luke. They’d decided, at impossibly short notice, to cover all the costs of filming my adventure, hoping that they might be able to make some money back later from selling the resulting documentary. Simon turned to me, standing under the waterfall, and thanked me for one of the best weekends he had ever had. There we were, six adventurers in a small cave, being r
ained on by a hot waterfall. This was paradise—paradise on the banks of the Waikato River.

  Next stop, and the last one for the day, was going to be Lake Whakamaru Christian Camp, on an island in the river. I wanted to stay there because it was exactly 30 kilometres from last night’s resting place. I also felt confident that Christians wouldn’t turn down a poor weary traveller on a mission of goodwill. But Simon is as cynical as me when it comes to religion so I was wondering if we would be able to behave ourselves.

  Pete, the camp manager, lived on site with his wife and three kids. Two of his daughters were there at the dock to welcome us in. It’s a pretty cool place that can accommodate 80 people. There’s heaps to do there, including a BMX track, confidence course, flying fox, abseiling, kayaking, mini golf, a rope swing above the water and much more.

  Guess what. I had been there no more than 30 seconds before I was on the rope swing jumping into the water. Then I was on the confidence course. Then the flying fox . . . We had the camp to ourselves.

  That evening we sat around the fire, toasted marshmallows and interviewed Pete. We had a robust discussion about whether God really is our saviour. Simon, always looking for that added drama, started baiting me. He was hoping I’d bite and launch into a massive ‘God isn’t actually real’ debate with a man that runs a Christian camp. I didn’t take the bait—I was grateful for Pete’s generous hospitality and I wasn’t about to disrespect him, no matter how wrong I thought he was. We parted as friends and turned in for the night.

  DAY FOUR: WHAKAMARU TO MANGAKINO

  Tuesday dawned with the most beautiful foggy sunrise I had ever seen. It was a short day—not too far to travel down to Mangakino, on the banks of Lake Maraetai. The water was freezing as I set out. Just before we got to Mangakino we were met by Pete who owned a paddle steamer. He’d kindly offered to give me a tow across some of the lake and I gladly accepted because I knew his paddle steamer would travel at a much more leisurely pace than a jet ski. Matt from Close Up and his cameraman were there to meet us when we arrived in Mangakino: Matt had received such good feedback from the first story that he was sent down to see me and my Lilo on the river.

  It was time for Simon, Luke and their crew to leave us. Ever the director, Simon left me with some choice words. ‘This has been too easy for you so far. Make sure you hurt yourself, push yourself, get into some drama. We need drama! Get Pip to film it all.’

  Paddle-steamer Pete had offered to take us up the Mangakino Stream to film with the guys from Close Up. Good man! I had already seen some of the most amazing scenery that New Zealand has to offer, but riding a paddle steamer up a stream that looked like a scene from Jurassic Park was a highlight. Sheer 50-metre-high cliffs rose straight out of the water. The water was crystal clear—we could see trout swimming below. It was idyllic. We went as far up the stream as we could go before turning around. This was where Matt got out his Lilo, put on his wetsuit and jumped in with me. We proceeded to do the interview while paddling together down this beautiful stream. When we had finished we got back on the steamer and went back into town. But I had learnt a valuable lesson that day.

  JIMI’S LESSON #12: There is plenty to see off the highway. Stop, look around and get off the beaten track.

  Kenn’s beautiful camo bus, now complete with Lilo The Waikato decals, was there to meet us. And it was great to be welcomed ashore by my new support crew of Michiel and Pip.

  It was dinner time, so we headed straight to the Mangakino pub for a drink and feed. It’s a rough ol’ place. I leaned on the bar and ordered lemonade for me and beers for the rest of the team. I had told Matt in my first interview that I was going to ‘Ask for help’ each night until I’d found somewhere to stay. He wanted to see me in action. He especially wanted to see me in action because I’d already explained to him how lucky I’d been over the first few days, ending up with places to stay without ever having to really ask anyone for help.

  That had to change and Close Up wanted the scoop. ‘Go on,’ he said, ‘go and talk to those guys.’ So I did, I wandered up to three guys having a quiet beer together. Judging from their attire and appearance they had probably completed a very hard day’s work. They were aged about 30, 40 and 65 respectively. I started chatting and we talked about the general goings-on of the world, and they figured by my outfit and the film crew following me that I was the mad guy Lilo-ing the Waikato. They had read about me in the local paper.

  Matt sidled in beside me and said, ‘When are you going to ask them?’

  ‘Now, Matt, I’ll do it now.’ I turned back to the men. ‘So, you guys know that I’m Lilo-ing the Waikato and that each night I need somewhere to stay. Do you think I could stay at your place tonight?’

  Baz, the older gentleman, said, ‘You know what? Anyone that’s crazy enough to Lilo the entire Waikato River . . .’ he paused for effect, ‘ain’t staying at my place!’ Bam! I was shot down on national television. Everyone cracked up. But the thing is, Barry was completely serious. And the other two couldn’t—or wouldn’t—put me up either.

  It wasn’t looking good. Then one of them piped up, taking pity on me I guess, and said he knew a guy that might put me up. A couple of phone calls later we had a name and address and we were off to see Vincent at the Maraetai Lodge. Vincent is one of the shyest, loveliest people around, and he was mortified at the thought of being filmed, so we bid farewell to the Close Up boys, and Vincent hooked Pip, Michiel and me up with a room each at the lodge. Simon was right, this was too easy!

  DAY FIVE: MANGAKINO TO ARAPUNI

  The next day we were having breakfast in Mangakino when a woman approached, sat down and started telling me her story. She’d had depression and lost three members of her family to suicide in the last couple of years. She said it was hard to cope, but she was getting help. She also said I was an inspiration to her and a lot of people she knows and I was doing an amazing job raising awareness for an issue that was tearing the country apart. She poured out her story and I was really happy to hear again that I was actually making a difference to other people’s lives. So thanks again to my breakfast companion for sharing her story with me.

  At 9 am I was standing at the base of Lake Maraetai dam. The water was flowing very quickly and there were signs up warning people not to go close to the dam. Matt and his crew were filming me putting on my gear, pointing at a map, sorting myself out. Michiel and I worked out where they could meet me for lunch. I jumped into the water and the current took me down the river at a rate of knots and out of sight of everyone. I was on my own on the river again, but this time it was going to be for the entire day, except lunchtime.

  It was going to be my first real test of perseverance and mental fortitude. I started paddling. About a kilometre later the water flow stopped dead. I was in Lake Waipapa. It looked like a river, but it was a lake and the water was still. A few hours later, after what felt like a million strokes, I got to the rendezvous point beside the dam at Lake Waipapa. Pip and Michiel were there with lunch and we figured out where on Lake Arapuni I was going to finish the day. I started again at the base of the dam; the current carried me along for about one kilometre and then the water stopped flowing at the start of Lake Arapuni.

  The guys I’d met in the Mangakino pub the previous night worked on the dams, and they told me that in summer water takes 83 days to get from Taupo to Port Waikato through all the dams. That’s quite a bit longer than the 14 days I had planned to take. My point is, the Waikato River is a hell of a lot slower than I had imagined. I really should have done some more research. But—and it was a good but—Darren and CrossFit NZ had got me into fantastic shape so that I could paddle all day and not hurt too much. I felt confident. I was feeling good.

  On the west side of Lake Arapuni there’s a lot of bush and empty farmland, and on the east is what looks like State Forest. Ahead of me was a lot of water. I was glad I’d made contact with Hayden from Hamilton during the planning phase of Lilo. His company DriPhone makes waterproof cases for sma
rtphones. My equipment consisted of a Lilo and a backpack that contained drinking water, a couple of protein bars and a couple of oranges. I was wearing my wetsuit, captain’s outfit and a lifejacket with my phone tied to one strap in a DriPhone bag and a GoPro video camera tied to the other strap. The phone meant I could Skype people and have a chat, text, update the Lilo Facebook page, and check Google for my exact position and how far I had left to go, but it only worked where I could get a signal . . .

  Here, in the middle of nowhere, I was cut off from the outside world because there was no signal. I couldn’t call Pip and Michiel and I couldn’t check a map. I was alone. There was no access for the support crew from the farmland on the left or the forest on the right. I was sure I would be fine, though—until I looked down into the water in front of me and saw that bubbles were floating to the surface from under the Lilo. Either fish were farting, or I had a leak. I wished it was the former, but no such luck—it was the latter. Maybe this would satisfy Simon!

  Twenty minutes later I was in the water swimming with only the pillow of the Lilo still inflated. I floated in the water and took off my backpack. I had some duct tape on a battery in there that I hoped I could use to patch the leak. I dunked the Lilo under the water to find out where the bubbles were coming from. The problem wasn’t as simple as a pinhole—one of the joins was splitting. Like a good Kiwi bloke, I took the duct tape off the battery and tried to patch the leak.

  It was a beautiful sunny day as I lay on my back and blew up the Lilo. This had been a nice rest, but I’ll tell you something for nothing, blowing up a Lilo without a pump really sucks. All that blowing really sucks! Inflated again, I continued on my way. I looked down at my handiwork. No bubbles. Success.