Most of you likely know of New Zealand's well-deserved reputation for producing excellent wines. We certainly passed several wineries en route to the park!
The plaque on the pyramid said, "In memory of Capt. Arthur Wakefield, who landed here in October 1841, and to record the coming of Riwaka's first prisoners who landed at the foot of this hill on the 2nd of May, 1842."
I hope you'll 'bear' with me as I've always had a thing for cute animal crossing signs!
The beach was part of the Tonga Island Marine Reserve, established in 1993 as a fully protected marine area along the national park's coast. Covering 1,835 hectares and extending one nautical mile out to sea, it was created in response to declining fish numbers and a degraded ecosystem.
On the right were Leann, the owner, her assistant, Leah, and the token male this time, Ash. Both women were Māori, or indigenous Polynesian people of New Zealand. As we gathered around in a circle, the staff led the group of ten participants in words of welcome in the Māori language, and then, in English, acknowledged "the sun around us, what a beautiful morning it was, and the beautiful flat seas we'd be paddling on." Leann said it was always important to acknowledge the bigger things around us before acknowledging the people.
The women said they were both from tribal groups on the North Island and were proud to now live on the South Island. They said their job was to uplift us (the participants) on our journey that morning and encouraged us to take relaxing breaths. As paddling represented their ancestors, we must treat the waka like a person, i.e., with respect. The women joked, mentioning that we were lucky that there were ten of us, not just two, to do all the work, as we'd been the only ones to sign up until two days ago!
As Leah would be our primary guide, she talked extensively about the rules we needed to follow to stay in sync while on the water. She asked Steven to be the pacemaker on our waka, which meant that the other four, including me, would have to follow the same movements of the person in front.
We didn't leave until Leah made a final appeal to the Māori ancestors in a moving ode with the conch shell.
As we paddled toward the first island, Kākā, Leah said it used to have a fortified village "back in the day of tribal villages." When anyone on the island saw an (enemy) waka approaching, the conch shell would be blown to warn everyone of imminent danger. Men and women would fight together against the enemy, leaving pregnant women and children to escape, because future generations needed to be saved.
Ancestors' bones were hidden on an adjacent island, because if they were found by the enemy, they'd be stronger, according to Māori beliefs. All around us had been temporary Māori villages, because they didn't want the enemies to return there, according to Leah. The fights had mostly been over women.
Unfortunately, I forgot to take a photo of the modern-style waka we used. But here's a photo of an old one I took in the Te Papa Museum in Wellington several days earlier to give you a sense of what it looked like.
The island behind Steven was Tapa, which meant "sacred land." Trees that grow on the island provide relief from mozzies, aka mosquitoes, to non-Kiwis. If you know which tree to use, take a leaf and scrunch it up to release the juices. Leah added, "BUTT it's critical to remember not to wash your hands right away, or you'll get the shits!"
After paddling for a good bit in Tasman Bay, we arrived close to Split Apple Rock, a rock formation made of Cretaceous-era granite, and shaped like an apple cut in half, as you might have guessed! Apples, however, are not local to New Zealand. Leah joked that it was Pac-Man's last resting place. During the Ice Age, this area had the biggest tidal ranges in the region. She added that people enjoy paddling between the rocks at high tide.
A short while later, we paddled to the beach and pulled the waka out of the water so we could enjoy some beach time and local snacks. Leah told us that the island was going to be blown up and mined for granite until local women fought to preserve it in the 1920s.
When I asked Leah about the black sandy streaks, she said they were volcanic ashes that washed through.
The island is home to only a few families.
Am I the only one who's never heard of a coffee cruise?! Until that morning, I had no idea how big an attraction the Split Apple Rock is in the national park.
On our way back to the other beach, we spotted some wakas with sails. Leah said they were likely young Māori learning how to paddle in unison. The company's policy is to charge guests more to help subsidize local youth learning ancient Māori traditions. Students learn on small or taurua sailing wakas before transferring to larger or houva sailing wakas. Their ultimate goal is to sail across the Pacific from Hawaii to Peru, navigating by the stars and tides and following the migration of whales and birds, as their ancestors had done. Leah said these trans-Pacific trips take weeks and weeks, depending on the weather.
Two years ago, four large sailing wakas paddled into Kaiteriteri Beach, where they were greeted by a contingent of smaller wakas. When we returned, Leah congratulated us and said we should each be proud of the hard work we had done working together to move the waka through the water, and experience Māori culture. Leann, Leah, and Ash then led a moving closing Māori ceremony, before we thanked them for the fascinating three-hour experience.
The waka experience, fortunately, ended at 12 as scheduled, so we had thirty minutes to grab an ice cream cone and catch our breath before beginning a half-day sailing cruise the full length of Tasman Bay. As it began just steps from where the waka experience, we just ambled over to take some shots and read about the community.
The bronze sculpture was a gift from Wakato Corporation to recognize the significance of Kaiteriteri as the site of the 1841 meeting between the Wakato ancestors and the New Zealand Company to negotiate the settlement of the Nelson region.
Remember the pyramid from earlier describing Captain Wakefield's arrival? He sailed to Kaiteriteri for a formal meeting with local chiefs on October 29, 1841, to discuss the prospect of European settlement in the region. Although the terms of the agreement were recorded, outlining the goods the Māori would receive in exchange for land, later testimonies revealed discrepancies in expectations.
The Kaiteriteri community became popular in the 1920s among people who wanted to enjoy camping in such a lovely spot.
The first bridge in Kaiteriteri was opened in 1940, as the number of cars increased, and dry summers turned the camp and beachfront into swirling dust clouds.
The name Kaiteriteri has different interpretations; some believe it meant "the food drifted, or to eat in a company of travelers." Others think the name should be translated as "to eat hurriedly." Both versions combine the ideas of food and movement, but it's difficult to ascertain what was intended without definitive derivation.
In 1960, five acres of swamp were reclaimed to provide a large area for children's activities, including a playground and, later, mini golf. But cyclones in 1975 and 2018 both unleashed their power in the region, damaging the coastline and boats seeking refuge in the bay.
Though the Covid-19 global pandemic struck New Zealand hard, the Kaiteriteri Recreation Reserve played a crucial role for the local community, providing a haven for New Zealanders throughout the pandemic to enjoy the place they know as paradise.
Because I'd spent so long reading the information panels, we only managed to get seats on the upper deck. It later turned out to be a blessing in disguise, however, as you'll see. We were looking forward to calling into picturesque coves, seeing Split Apple Rock from another vantage point, and cruising by seal colonies on Tonga & Adele Islands.
Steven and I just had to smile when the boat's recording mentioned that Split Apple Rock was formed by a fault approximately 135 million years ago. It still amazed me to think of the effects that mud and water had made on this landscape and so many others.
Marahau Bay was a large tidal estuary, typical of the Abel Tasman coastline, with a tidal range of 5.1 meters, making it one of the largest in New Zealand. The recorded voice told us that native pine trees take about 50 years to grow and that tobacco was grown here years ago.
As we cruised up the bay, we passed some beautiful beaches, some of which had campsites above them.
Though Leah had told us apples were not a local fruit, we motored into Apple Tree Bay, where settlers first planted apple trees. When the Abel Tasman National Park was established in 1942, the government reclaimed leasehold land, meaning people owned the buildings but not the underlying land. The many privately owned, freehold sections, or outright ownership of the land and any buildings on it, couldn't be included in the national park, now administered by the Department of Conservation, or DoC.
Adele Island was named after the wife of the French explorer Dumont D'Urville. Now a predator-free island, endangered birds are released there, in the hope they will later migrate to the mainland.
As we approached Pitt Head, we learned that Colonel Albert Pitt purchased land here in 1900. Formerly the site of a Māori pā or fortified village, it now has a modern navigation light. I imagine only New Zealanders would care that the island is also named Dolly Varden, as it resembles one of the husband-and-wife singing duo's hats!
Stunning Torrent Bay was named for D'Urville for the three streams that pour into it. There is no land access to the privately owned properties.
It was sad to see the large number of dead wildling trees or wilding conifers on the island. The trees, introduced in the 1800s, are invasive, self-seeding exotic pines, firs, and larches that have aggressively spread across New Zealand's landscapes. Now covering over 1.8 million hectares, they threaten to smother native ecosystems, prompting national eradication efforts.
The boat landed on shore, so some passengers could get off and spend a couple of hours on the beach until we picked them up on our return to Kaiteriteri.
A fellow getting off at Glasgow's Bay had permission to plant a tree. One of the crew told me later he was John Glasgow, whose family had owned the idyllic spot since 1908. He'd also be picked up on the way back south. We hadn't realized that the boat wasn't just for people like us enjoying an afternoon on the bay, but also served as a ferry for locals.
One of the crew told me that homes on these almost deserted islands ranged from shacks on the beach to palatial estates!
I think this was part of Falls River, one of the park's larger rivers that formed a sand spit with a narrow entrance to the sea. As a recent fan of suspension bridges, I'd have liked to see the one further upriver!
The boatman piloted the boat near the rocks, so everyone could spot the New Zealand fur seal pups sunning themselves. We heard the noisy marine animals long before we saw them up close!
One of the crew said that the seals love being here because of its remote location.
The spiky flax plants were popular among Māori, and their seeds are now loved by birds.
Shag Harbour had been a supply depot when the area was farmed during the late 1800s and early 1900s. Though the dead wilding trees stuck out like a sore thumb, it was proof that they were being eradicated even in this fairly remote spot. The trees die within three to four years of an accelerant or gel being used. I was assured that the gel isn't a poison that can affect other trees or animals. I couldn't begin to fully understand the scope of protecting the park and eliminating the non-native trees.
While Steven dozed after the morning's intense physical activity, I enjoyed chatting with my seatmates, Alastair and Nicky, a much younger couple who were spending the long weekend in Nelson from their home on the North Island. They were also both big travelers, having recently returned from a long trip to China, where Alastair's parents had emigrated from decades earlier. Nicky talked about her years abroad in Europe as a young 20-something, before returning to her home in NZ. She explained how she was thankful to her mother for encouraging her to "see the world" while she was fancy-free and get the bug out of her system before settling down to raise a family in NZ with Alastair. I really enjoyed our long chat as we motored up and later down the coast.
The boat spent some time at Awaroa Beach, which looked like everyone's dream of a remote paradise island! When the beach went up for sale, someone from overseas wanted to buy it. However, the locals didn't want that, so they launched a crowdfunding campaign to raise the funds needed to purchase it. Fortunately, the federal government matched the money raised and added the parcel of land to the national park.
The boatman patiently waited for the six people who had been dropped off that morning and told to return at 2. How I wish we had thought to ask if we could stick our toes in the warm sand while waiting!
Finally, the six people made their way along the beach to the boat, although they didn't look like they were in much of a hurry!
At some point, the boat reached the top of the peninsula and began the southward journey, but Steven was still napping, and I was too engrossed in my conversation with Alastair and Nicky to notice!
If we had been in a canoe rather than the boat, we could have paddled right through the magnificent rocks at Tonga Quarry.
Another bay, another stop to wait for more passengers!
While waiting, we were entertained, hearing about a local fellow with a clearly independent streak, who had been given an ultimatum by the DoC to move away from the area, as it was to be part of the national park. Unwilling to move, he filled his home with explosives, and, I think, also blew himself up. The plaque relayed his story.
At one beach, we picked up a group of 15 middle-aged women who had walked the Abel Tasman Track, one of New Zealand's most popular Great Walks, for three days. The roughly 60km long track winds its way from Mārahau in the south up to Wainui Bay to the north.
Our next stop was Anchorage Bay, so-called because boats can anchor at low tide. There was a DoC hut and campground nearby, but all provisions must be brought in.
We picked up ten-plus people who had been dropped off that morning, and waited again for more stragglers!
The fur seals on Adele Island were remarkably calm, allowing the boatman to drive right up to them!
Seeing the seals had been a perfect way to end the picture-perfect cruise.
Even though our lives are on different continents, I hope that Steven and I will reconnect with our newfound friends sometime, somewhere.
We saw field after field of grape vines as we drove toward our rental in Motueka.
At our host's recommendation, we stopped for dinner at the Riwaka Hotel, which had been around for over 160 years! When we arrived, the patio looked beautiful, but we had to move tables twice as the sun set and our sunny table became shaded and darned cold!
Next post: Heading over to the island's west coast via another suspension bridge and Punakaiki Pancake Rocks!
Posted on May 28th, 2026, from Taipei, Taiwan, after a day tour visiting the island's northwest geological and manmade wonders with a tour guide coralling his 40 guests, giving us numbers, and making sure the bus would wait for no one at any time. As he kept saying, this wasn't a private tour, and we were all adults, so be on time or make friends with a taxi driver to take you where you want to go. What a different approach from the boatman in Abel Tasman National Park! Please take care of yourself and your loved ones.
