River Facts
Upper Whataroa:
Class: IV+ and V (P)
Level: 40 -120 cumecs
Length: 4.8 km
Fun Fact: Kayaks were meant for the water, not the shoulder.
Hoki was dry. Not only was the hellaciously precipitous "coast" dry but Dando´s helicopter was also down due to a transmission failure. We´d come from the Queenstown/Otago region big water in hopes of getting in at least one more heli run in on the South Island.
Our ragtag international group, akin by cheap cell phones, kayak addiction, and the future chances to take the piss out of each other all diverged back to Hoki but were a bit distraught at the received negative news. I instantly began to text around my circle of local Hokitika friends as to gather options. The Whataroa, a glacier fed run 100 km´s south along the coast was the only option relatively well received by the group, and to boot, a company was taking a raft group up tomorrow at nine thirty am to heli-raft the lower section, thus facilitating more cost-efficient helicopter shuttles. A welcome addition for us cost-reliant dirtbag kayakers.
Scouring over dilapidated guidebooks we discovered that there existed two sections on the river, and upper and lower. The Upper consisted of consistent grade IV plus through V boulder gardens with a gorge and numerous portages. The lower was a grade IV plus ultra classic for intermediates consisting of three super scenic gorges guaranteed to bring value to any costs incurred flying up. Our group, Ty, Tom, Chris, and myself, knowing that there was nothing but blue sky excellent weather with the next few days all looked at each other with one thing on our mind, multi-day.
Photo: The best way in.
Take by AM
Armed with dry bags, eight liters of win, and assorted six pack of beer, some dried food, and a pack of cheap cigarettes, we jumped aboard the Hughes 500 and shot up the valley eager for our grueling 3 km paddle to our first night´s camp.
Photo: From Bulter Hut
The run started well with the discovery of an Australian porno mag at the Butler hut where we were dropped off. The rest of the Upper section had mixed results. After the first km of straight forward grade IV we entered the true crux of the run.
Photo: We´re not classy.
The first was a spicy rapid consisting of three distinct sub-rapids. The first was a slide, created by a log and backed up by a rock. It´d go but looked painful with the consequences even more dire. The second stage was a meter ledge drop that was too sieved out to even fathom. Another portage. Putting in below for the third stage gave us the opportunity to run two relatively clean boofs, resulting in a run-out avoiding some undercuts. I went first.
Photo: Idaho Ty showing us how it´s done.
Taken by AM
Boofing the first ledge I came off hitting a rock and getting knocked upside down. Rolling up I was already off line for the next series and charged the hard right boof knowing that a large hydraulic backed up by a huge boulder lay waiting. I boofed, landed flat, and didn´t move. Drifting into the rock wall, I tried to claw my way out but was flipped entering the hole, hitting another rock upside down, and eventually flushed out. Horrible line but safe. Tentatively, the other boys fired it off in style and without incident.
The next rapid was a twenty foot drop in which one was required to slide into a heavy hydraulic or boof the corner into a boiling pool. The true problem here was that if one was to foul the line up, they would be slammed into a undercut cave with three quarters of the current blasting into it. Chris summed it up best after scouting with, "I´m pretty sure I can make the line, but if something happens or I don´t, I´m 100% sure I´ll die." Portage.
The portage fest continued after a few more km´s of read and run grade IV plus, only this time we witnessed the entire river disappear under a house sized boulder. If it wasn´t sieved out, it landed on rock, if it didn´t land on rock, it was undercut, if it wasn´t undercut, it was full of logs. As if the river was laughing at us, we trudged, hauled, and portaged our boats on the convenient hiking trail on river left. It should be noted that the West Coast´s hiking trails closely resemble grade III scrambling in most mountainous countries I´ve visited throughout the world.
Portage, Portage, Portage.
Taken by AM
The final gorge and portage was known as the, "Portals of Doom." In this portage we rappelled, lowered, and dropped our boats all over the place. From the sounds and brief views of the river below the aforementioned name aptly fit the style of river we were witnessing. Putting back in, we paddled upstream through some flat water to witness a beautiful gorge and even more spectacular 35 foot waterfall which landed on a house sized boulder.
The paddling day ended but our efforts to finish all the intoxicants brought with lasted well into the night and probably the morning as tall tales roared just as high as our driftwood bonfire.
Lower Whataroa: Day 2
Class: III+ (IV)
Length: 13km
Level: 40-120 cumecs
Fun Fact: Stunning, Fantastic, and Worth Every Penny.
Awaking on day 2 to another beautiful day and the West Coast´s complete population of sand flies we put on the river as quickly as possible, expecting a chill day. With Tom still heinously drunk from the wine the night past, our first portage at the first rapid, on the first gorge put fears into our minds as to what this run really had on it. Hell, rafts ran down the thing, certainly we should be able to!
Photo: Chris finally realizes why he came to NZ.
Taken by AM
Alas, our fears were put to rest as the rest of the river was gorge filled fantastic grade IV, complete with some must run rapids, the most beautiful schist gorges I´ve ever seen, and some wonderful technical moves mixed in. Aside from a piton dent in my bow and some interesting lines resulting in surf sessions as a result of Tom´s debauchery, the day ended as we had hoped with a good time had by all and completely without regret.
Photo: Inner Gorge, Chris Eastabrook, or Christ, you choose.
Taken by AM
Photo: Ty linking up the end of a another classic rapid.
Taken by AM
****Interesting Side Story*****
Ty, having already blown up one van in New Zealand, was again struck with Van issues as his back passenger side strut blew out on our way out of the river. First attempts at repair with our limited supply of duct tape were in vain, however, I´m extremely proud to claim that my Midwest Mountaineering cam strap and our combined ingenuity reigned supreme, holding the destroyed part for well over 60 km and to the nearest garage.
Ty getting amongst it.
