GYPSY GIGOLO JOURNAL #35

Welcome back gentle reader.
This is the second and final instalment of the Great Barrier Escape.
Being able to entertain oneself is a prerequisite for Barrier living.
Clever deployment of a cardboard box and some breadcrusts resulted in a very cunning trap for the two rare Pateke ducks that sharp-eyed viewers will see in the left foreground.
I don't understand why this didn't work!

This one of a handful of vehicles that escaped the Barrier Police's campaign to rid the island of dangerous unregistered wrecks. It is compulsory for the driver and passengers to be pissed and/or stoned for their own safety!

Don't be fooled by the 'No Worries' hat, or the apparently relaxed smile - they belie the fact that I am scared shitless up here on the Windy Canyon track. This narrow goat path is a million metres above sea level, swept by howling winds, and no handrail! The beach and estuary in the background is Whangapoua.

Parts of the track through the canyon are very steep and steps are the only means of access.

Rocks around beautiful Harataonga Beach provide a great fishing platform, and in the background is Arid Island. The fish were not co-operative.

Mussels are farmed on the Barrier growing on ropes suspended from buoys in the harbour. The farms provide some of the few job opportunities for locals.
Ropes covered in mussels are winched onboard the barge and after rumbling through a drum to clean off most debris, girls grade out the rubbish and the premium shellfish are bagged. The dross is swept off the deck and transforms into gourmet fare for a huge school of fish on a feeding frenzy.
Fishing was like dropping your line in an aquarium of starving fish. The only skill involved was deciding which ones to throw back. Altough this one easily exceeds the minimum size it, like most of the ones caught, got thrown back.

One of the bigger snapper was a great subject for a successful smoking.

Locals wasting away again in margaritaville.

I had a rare opportunity to host a bevy of Barrier beauties for drinks on a balmy island afternoon. Not all the women on the island have missing body parts or are scary creatures. You will note that I am wearing my 'searching for a beautiful island princess' hat. My unconditional proposal of marriage was spurned by all present - shame!

The ferry calls in to Port Fitzroy once a week delivering passengers, vehicles, fuel, food, alcoholic beverages, and building materials. The locals all head down to the wharf on Tuesdays for their weekly entertainment.

The Island Navigator transported me and my Bus With No Name safely back to the mainland. The great Great Barrier experience is now an indelible memory which will hopefully be repeated before I shuffle off this mortal coil. If you haven't been there, put it on your 'to do' list!

The next adventure is in the planning phase and will finish with another South Island visit in the spring.

Thanks for watching, and very good luck to you and your family.

GYPSY GIGOLO JOURNAL #34

Welcome to 2010 and a continuation of the exciting adventures.
The focus of this journal is Great Barrier Island (Aotea).
I sailed in to Tryphena at the beginning of December and this sculpture greets you at the head of the harbour.


The Barrier has about 100 kilometres of roads and the majority are narrow rough gravel.



Over the hill from Tryphena is the first of the five DOC camps on the island. This is Medlands Beach on the south eastern coast.


A relatively short, but rather tortuous, journey up the east coast brings the traveller to picturesque Harataonga Beach.

A few bone-rattling kilometres over the hill and you are at Port Fitzroy.

The Port Fitzroy store is the central meeting point for the community and locals buy a box of beer and sit under the sun umbrellas and while away the day.

The DOC campsite at Port Fitzroy is on Akapoua Bay. This place is a jewel.

It is a rare privilege to kick back and watch the sun go down after a busy day at Akapoua Bay!

The Barrier has a reputation for protecting fauna and flora. The ducks below are Brown Teal, or Pateke, and are amongst the rarest ducks in the world. An estimated population of 1,000 live on the island.

Not quite so rare is the harvest from the sea. A couple of crayfish being prepared for dinner.

One of the many hilarious moments on the island, but potentially very dangerous, was when I undertook smoking a fish. Too much methylated spirits sent flames leaping everywhere and during the effort to extinguish the inferno the smoker was knocked over, fish thrown on the ground, and the grass set alight.

Another classic moment was the great Great Barrier Boil-off. My mate Lightning bet me that his gas cooker could boil 330ml of water quicker than mine. It turned out he was right, and I'm a bottle of wine the poorer!

Two months already on Aotea and it seems like only a week or two.

Another month to go and back to the mainland at the end of February.

Thanks for watching, good luck to all your families.

GYPSY GIGOLO JOURNAL #33

Good of you to pop in!
I have been undertaking my recent activities at a very casual pace and now is the time to liven things up as we move towards Xmas and summer.
When in Auckland I spend the odd night camped in my big back yard - known to a lot of you as the Auckland Domain.
During a recent stay when parked near the Wintergarden I was rudely awoken in the middle of the night by a raucous bunch of film technicians. They had arrived very early to set up for a shoot in the morning. I had no option but to vacate their film set.


My adventuring in and around Auckland has taken me to a number of regional parks. These are great places to park The Bus With No Name for a night or two. I happened to be at Tawharanui Regional Park, about 80 kilometres north of Auckland, when an earthquake hit Vanuatu. A tsunami was forecast for NZ and the over-zealous park rangers evicted me from the campground and insisted I headed for higher ground. Any resultant wave was so small it failed to trouble the myriad of sophisticated recording instruments scattered throughout our oceans.


Getting up close and personal with nature in the Wenderholm Regional Park resulted in this shot of a handsome young tui gathering nectar from flax flowers.


A highlight of recent times was a return trip to the far north for the Hokianga Country Music Festival. Revelry was centred on the Opononi Hotel and other venues included the pubs of Omapere, Rawene and Kohukohu. The event brought out some of the local cowboys who had a bit of a shootout at the pub.

They made their getaway on their trusty steeds.

Apart from smoking dope, linedancing is the most popular pastime in the far north. Everyone dons a cowboy hat and boots and rips into it with a vengeance, boot-slapping to the mangled strains of Dolly Parton.

I had my own cowboy hat and boots, plus my tokotoko stick, so I joined the linedancing troupe. I instantly created chaos with my unrehearsed moves which seemed to be 180 degrees opposed to those of the local country folk.

In the far north minor irritations get dealt with promptly and with rural flair. I extracted a wobbly front tooth with this pair of pliers!

The Willie Nelson look had developed through autumn and winter.


The arrival of spring and the promise of a bevy of summer beauties demanded a haircut.

Note how I have miraculously converted a host of six-packs into rippling blubber!

The next couple of months will be spent on Great Barrier Island. I will ship The Bus With No Name on the vehicular ferry and I hope to spend December and January on "Barrier Time".

Merry Christmas to you all and I'll talk to you again in 2010.

Good luck to all your families.

GYPSY GIGOLO JOURNAL #32

It's been a long time between drinks campers!!
Here we go with yet another chapter in the life and times of Hawkeye, aka 'Willie' in the Wanderlust Wagon, or the Geriatric Gypsy Gigolo.
Since the last time I talked to you I have been hibernating at an idyllic slice of heaven - Maitai Bay on the Karikari Peninsula, about 35 kilometres east of Kaitaia.

No pot of gold at the end of this rainbow!

Instead, these crosses serve as a stark reminder of a boating tragedy in the bay.

Big news of recent times is that I have sold my apartment in Parnell, Auckland and I am now officially 'Of No Fixed Abode'.

I have been looking out for likely properties that might suit me once I retire from the road.

Although my financial resources are somewhat limited, here are some attractive options that my budget will stretch to.

A couple more months in the north island and then off to the mainland for summer and autumn.

Thanks for watching.

Good luck to all your families.

GYPSY GIGOLO JOURNAL #31

Hi De Hi Campers.
Here we are again, off on another adventure.
This is the beginning of the third journey around the country.
It seemed appropriate to start again at the northern tip, so here I am at Cape Reinga explaining to my fellow adventurer, Rowan (Stanley) Forbes, which way is up.

The Houhora Hotel lays claim to being the northern most drinking establishment in the land.
It was compulsory for Stanley and I to stop and sample their wares.

Stanley was determined to explore the waterways of the Far North and courageously launched his rubber duck at the notoriously dangerous Houhora Heads.

The rubber duck proved to be a somewhat cumbersome piece of exploration paraphernalia, and filled up most of the passage way of the Bus With No Name.
Each stop necessitated extricating the bloody thing from the bus and then stuffing it back in again each time we set off.

A nostalgic return to The Hokianga yielded this historic little gem at Kohukohu. Stanley is standing on Kohukohu’s world famous stone bridge that was built in 1866 from Sydney sandstone brought as ballast in early timber ships.

Second phase of the Far North adventure was to participate in the 90 Mile Beach Lion Red Snapper Classic fishing competition.

Dan Watson fancied his chances of winning the big prize, so each day before dawn for 5 days we drove along the beach in Wat’s 4WD searching for a likely fishing spot.

Fish that won the prizes were all caught before sunrise each morning - we couldn’t even catch cold!

Exploring was much more fun than standing waist deep in surging breakers, so we drove up the beach and out to the highway via the Te Paki stream.
Wat is texting Coastguard our GPS co-ordinates in case we get marooned in the stream.

We successfully navigated the treacherous Te Paki stream, so good reason to celebrate at the Houhora pub.

After all this frantic activity it was time for a bit of R & R at the Far North’s best kept secret location – Maitai Bay on the Karikari Peninsula.

The plan is to winter over in the north, and then think about the south island again in spring.

Thanks for watching.

Good luck to all your families.