Matata Wildlife Lagoons and Beach: Winter Walk

Today's walk was supposed to be a positive and uplifting experience, but it pretty much ended up being the opposite of that.

It has been 2 and a half months since NZ went into a strict lockdown at level 4 because of COVID-19.  Now we are in level 2 with signs of dropping to level 1 within a couple of weeks.  I had not been for a decent walk since the 15^th of February (summer), and now here we were in June (winter).  Finally, with the threat of COVID lower and my paranoia around safety less evident, I felt I could head out onto the sand dunes once more.

It was a bright, sunny, early-winter’s morning.  My weather station said it was 17 degrees both outside and in when I left (upon my return the outside temperature had dropped to 14, but the thermometer transmitter for the station is in shadow behind my garden shed).

I had been experiencing some back trouble over the last week, with it very stiff and occasionally giving a pang of pain.  Getting up from sitting or laying down has been a slow process.  I thought an hour’s morning walk could help strengthen a few muscles and work out a bit of the stiffness.  So, it was with a thought toward some physical recuperation that I headed out.  Unfortunately, I would return with some mental anguish instead caused by irritation and frustration at the acts of idiots and ignoramuses.

As usual, I circled up to the road that runs behind my neighbours, as opposed to walking along the footpath-less main road; although the main road speed limit in front of my house is 50km/hr drivers tend to continue through this section at 100km/hr, much to my constant irritation, so I avoid it.  The first person I saw was a jogger with an off-leash dog heading toward me.  I turned right, down the road that leads back to the main road, but I stuck to the right as I suspected the jogger would turn also and run along the footpath on the left side of the road, which he did.  Off-leash dogs are another irritant to me, but after trying to have a calm and sensible conversation about ignoring the signs/rules with one such off-leash dog owner a few years ago in Taitua Arboretum and getting a torrent of angry backlash, I tend to bite my tongue and keep my distance, in the hope I will not get bitten again (I have, twice, neither time had I provoked or approached said animal, and one of those times I required 12 weeks of medical treatment).  I crossed the main road, walked part of the causeway that leads both to the beach and the camp-ground, then turned left up a bush-lined path.  The entrance to that path had the following sign.  

A few minutes after entering, the same jogger with off-leash dog came past me from behind.  Yep, like I said, a constant irritation and threat to my health and safety.

The west lagoon in Matata is essentially cut in 2 by a rough sand causeway, across which there was evidence of vehicle use (that causeway is in the distance in the photo below).  The far half of this lagoon had seen some recent earthwork and, at the top end, there was a machine still nearby indicating that there was more work to come.  I could not figure out what they were trying to do, other than increase the height of the banks around the lagoon.  Had it been 15 years prior I might have thought it was repair work after the massive floods that had come through.

Just past that, as I curved northward to walk out to the sea, I chose instead to turn left once again, keeping inland from the beach, and walking up past the remaining houses that the council had deemed in potential danger of future flooding.  I once had considered one of these houses for purchase and, in hindsight, am glad that I hadn’t gone ahead with it (I believe the house I had looked at was still there and it was still obviously occupied).  The current owners of those houses are at loggerheads with the council over their right to remain living there, but it seems they have lost that battle with the wider area council recently agreeing with the local one over the eviction and demolition/removal decisions.  I am sure there can not be much more time before the last few houses are gone.  My brother-in-law’s sister was dating a guy (some time ago) who owned a house here, and I looked for it, but there was just a bare patch of ground where it once stood.  Unfortunately, just behind that patch of ground there seemed to be a few abandoned buses and other junk, which are a bit of an eyesore.

I turned away from that area of despair and walked through the sand dunes to the ocean. 

The sun was directly ahead, to the north, right out over the ocean, causing a shimmering glare right where Whakaari is situated, so I could see neither the island nor any cloud of smoke emanating from it.  Looking along the beach, I could see numerous vehicle tracks in the sand which, to my eyes, marred the beauty of the landscape, and surely contributed to coastal erosion.  I know why some of those vehicles come over the dunes and on to the beach – because people are too lazy to walk their surf-casting fishing gear by foot to the beach – but still do not understand it.

I tried not to let it affect me, so went closer to the (currently low tide) water’s edge to walk.  Further ahead I could see a quad bike parked on a higher ridge of sand but could see no people from this angle.  As I got nearer, I saw there was a single fishing line leading from it to the water, and there were a few people and 2 more (off-leash) dogs sheltering on the far side.  One of the dogs barrelled right at me and started up a barrage of barking, blocking my path where I was about to step over the fishing line.  A woman attempted (at first unsuccessfully) at calling the dog away.  Once the dog backed off, I crossed the line and carried on walking, only to have the dog rush at me again, barking and chasing me off.

Further down the beach another person was fishing, but without vehicle or dog, which was a relief.

I was not the first to walk this way

A ridge of sand created by the tide

Heading up to the dunes, I was shocked as a car rushed past along the top of the dunes.  There was a rough track in the sand along there, but I am sure cars are not allowed.  Dune protection is a serious thing in much of the world, but here in Matata it seems some people are not as concerned.  In addition, with the current state of my back and my slow, careful movements, I doubt I would have been able to get out of that car’s way had I been up on the dunes as it came rushing at me.

Cresting the dunes and beginning to descend the landward side of them, I was further dismayed to discover that some idiot had driven their vehicle down the walking track to the end of the eastern lagoon, got stuck there, abandoned it, and the vehicle been since been looted.  A worse eyesore than the earlier buses.  I am sure that the local wildlife does not appreciate it.

I wandered along the edge of the lagoon with a heavy heart, at humankind’s continual ability to destroy and pollute the only planet we have.

I reached the hide, which no longer serves such a purpose, with its overgrown view.  It is likely only used now as a rain shelter in a sudden downpour, or for the occasional nocturnal lovers’ tryst.

The view from the hide

I tried once more to connect with the nature around me, listening to the scores of ducks on the lagoon, and looking at the nature along the trail.

My walk was nearing an end and I was back at the causeway, with a fleeting view of the winter-empty camp-ground, before heading home with views of the township and the loud clusters of badly muffled motorcycles that broke the peaceful sounds of nature as they rode through.

Matata camp ground

Back at home my back seemed to have a little more flexibility during some back-strengthening exercises, so I seemed to have improved my physical being, but not my emotion/mental one as I continued to dwell on the issues I had witnessed.