The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea. Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Today we are going to Anawhata Beach. That's pronounced Ah-nah-fah-tah. (In Maori, the

 -wh- is pronounced as an -f-.)  All of the beaches I've seen on the western side of NZ have been awe-inspiring, but Anawhata commands a special sort of respect because it is not a beach you can drive to with your car. You really have to pay a price to get there. But it's worth it.   

The following descriptions, just below, are taken directly from the regional park website, 

http://regionalparks.aucklandcouncil.govt.nz/anawhataregionalpark.

"Anawhata is a spectacular beach that can only be reached by foot. Because it is less accessible, it is much quieter than other beaches in the Waitakere Ranges."

"Follow Piha Road until Anawhata Road (first road on right hand side). Follow Anawhata Rd for approximately 7.2 km; Craw Homestead is on the left. Anawhata Road is gravel and very narrow and winding – please take care."

Remember the post I did about the winding road to Piha?  Well, that was a road of two paved lanes, albeit shoulder-free and twisting.  Imagine a gravel road, 7.2 kilometres long, of about a lane and a half wide, with a steep slope above you on one side, and an unguarded drop of a couple of hundred feet on the other side. That's Anawhata road; the good parts anyway...

The day we went, Allison did a magnificent job of driving us to the car park above the beach. Her concentration along Anawhata Road had been total of course, as had ours. After we pried our fingers out of our arm rests, and the boy's fingers out of our upper arms,  Jeanne and I were able to start the process of releasing Allie's fingers from the steering wheel.  

Fortunately, Allie's hands recovered quickly. 

After kissing the ground, and unloading our day's provisions from the car's boot, we started to make our way down the trail to the beach.

The going was easy at first. The path downward was straight and wide for the first couple of hundred meters. Gravity was happy to exert it's pull and accelerate us toward the beach. The only tricky part was to keep our speed of descent controlled. I was thankful that I saw a right-hand turn at the bottom of this first section of the trail. In case of an emergency, I figured we could always throw ourselves into the brush on the corner to stop.  

The view of Anawhata Beach from the car park.

After getting up and brushing the leaves out of each others hair, and diminishing our supply of plasters, (band-aids) we then started down the steep portion of the trail. This part was clearly designed for single-file passage. A bit hard to manage when you have another, younger member of the family who wants to hold hands during the descent. Allie and the boys bounded downward while Jeanne clamped on to me. I wasn't sure if she was holding on so tightly to prevent herself from falling over the edge or because she wanted to make sure she'd take me with her if she did. This is the view we had.  As you can see, the beach is almost straight down from here.

We did notice, when we stopped at one point to wipe the sweat out of our eyes, and to change sides, so that the hands that had been clasping one another could enjoy normal blood flow again, that we had managed to make it about half-way down.  This is looking out across the chasm at the next hill.

Allie and the boys had long since arrived at the beach and had been enjoying themselves when Jeanne and I stepped down from the final slope.  

Our hearts were touched when we saw how happy the boys were to see that we had made it down safely. They came running toward us from quite a distance down the beach and shouted, and waved, and smiled happily.  My eyes misted up from the emotion of the moment. They surged joyfully around us, helping me to ease the backpack from my shoulders, before digging into it for the picnic lunch Allie had packed. "Gee, Grandpa," they said, "we thought we'd starve before you and Grammy got here. Maybe Mama ought to carry the food next time." 

To get a feel for the scale of this beach, notice that the boys and Jeanne have climbed up the sand dune to the base of the cliff in the lower, center of the picture.

After our lunch, while they went back to frolicking, I stood on the beach, took pictures, and quietly enjoyed the day. At one point I looked over and noticed that the last wave had rewarded me with an 11 footed-starfish practically at my feet. The 'header image' at the top of this post is another photo I took of my gift from the sea.

Just in case people are too traumatised from the trip down from the parking lot to remember how to return to their vehicles at the end of the day, the authorities in charge of the beach erected a sign to show us how to get back. It really ought to be pointing up though, at an angle of about 75 degrees.

Notice that the boys have each selected a stout walking stick to speed their ascent. 

Grammy and I actually started the return trek a little earlier than Allie and the boys (needed a head start) and set our gearshifts to 'low range, 4 wheel drive.' There was no hand-holding this time since we needed them free to winch ourselves up the trail from tree to tree. Here is a typical view of the trail. The gap under the fallen tree is about 3 feet. 

The pace of our climb got me to thinking about the giant carnivorous kauri snail, one of the biggest in the world, that inhabits these forests. Oxygen deprivation set me to daydreaming....

I knew of course that this snail, while a voracious predator, is also nocturnal. I just wondered if snails were ever prone to insomnia, and if so, if one, suffering from this malady in my vicinity, might be up and taking a walk, looking for a late-night snack.

I snapped out of my haze when Jeanne poked me in the back and asked what I was muttering about.  She suggested I save my breath and pick up my pace a little. "You've creeping along like a snail," she complained. If she only knew...

http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/blogs/in-our-nature/7153489/The-awesome-truth-about-snails  (watch the video..that snail can really eat)

Soon after, we heard sounds from below and behind as the boys and Allie began making their ascent. We felt a cooling breeze as they billowed past and then were lost again to sight in the greenery above us on the trail. In due course, moving about as quickly as New Zealand must have pulled away from Gondwana eons ago, Jeanne, and then I too, arrived at the car. 

We had had a truly wonderful day. We had the beach completely to ourselves, although we did see another family arriving as we left. To top it all off, the generous Tasman Sea rewarded me with a starfish for coming to visit. 

And we all managed the physical aspects of the adventure. Actually, I thought I climbed pretty well for an old guy. And I would have beat Jeanne too, those last few meters to the car, if my tongue hadn't wrapped around my legs again.                -djf