Wildside - Kaiteriteri Holiday

Hooked on the great outdoors

© Zane Mirfin, Wildside Column, Hooked on the great outdoors, Nelson Mail, 15 March 2010

A family holiday is a time to pass traditions on to the next generation.


Net result: Izaak and Jake Mirfin out catching flounders with Uncle Scotty.

KAITERITERI Beach is a glistening jewel in the crown of Tasman Bay. With golden granite sand, clear blue water, great accommodation, entertainment and lashings of abundant Nelson sunshine, it sure is a tough place to beat. Best of all, Kaiteriteri is close to the region’s main population centres – and, most importantly, free for all to cherish and enjoy.

With Aimee virtually being a solo mother for the past few months while I’ve been guiding overseas anglers on the rivers of northern South Island, we were due to have another family holiday again, and what better way than to spend a weekend at Kaiteriteri testing our new family-sized tent at the beachside campground? With half of Christchurch now having returned home, it was time for some Nelsonians to reclaim Kaiteri for some autumn outdoor recreation.

We were joined by my brother Scott, sister-in-law Kirstie and their two boys on our minicamping adventure, which added immensely to the experience. Our kids all get on great, and this weekend was to be no exception, whether it was out in the boat, having a barbecue, or playing catch together with their megahowler toy.

Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time away at various campgrounds as a cabin dweller on fishing trips, but couldn’t remember camping out at such places in a tent. Normally, I associate camping out with wild, remote places far removed from huts and other modern conveniences, so camping near to flush toilets, kitchen facilities, hot water and electricity seemed a bit weeny-ish. But as it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

After fishing the Motueka River for the day, I was fortunate to arrive late at our jam-packed camp sites with tents already erected and a cluster of vehicles, boat and shuttle trailer. There were camp tables, folding camp chairs and all manner of kids’ boogie boards, sand shovels and wet suits lying around.

After I drove my truck on to the site towing my tinnie, there wasn’t much room left for anything else. The Mirfins definitely had all the toys for a great weekend.

Kaiteriteri is a great place. For a start, there is the beach, plus Little Kaiteriteri, Breaker, Stephens and Tapu bays a short distance away. Along the main beach there are all sorts of places to eat and drink, playgrounds to visit, a flying fox, and mini-golf to play. We had a great time doing family stuff, other people were very friendly, and judging by the number of other families we already knew, Kaiteri was a favourite of plenty of others, too.

Having young children, our outdoor priorities have changed over the years. It is now harder for Scott and me, in our early 40s, to get away and be the intrepid outdoor men we used to be in our 20s and 30s. Sometimes our outdoor jaunts are limited to short adventures, not so much for us but for our kids, so they can learn about the outdoors and to safely develop competence and enjoyment out there, on and in the water.

On our first morning in Kaiteriteri, Scotty and I raced out in his Naiad inflatable to set a setline for snapper and a set net for flounder in the Riwaka estuary. A few hours later, we were able to take the kids out to check them. Alas, no snapper, only a few sand sharks – the fishy vermin of Tasman Bay, which had spun the setline into a ball of knots in places. Our netting success wasn’t much better – a bit of weed and only one flounder – but the kids were having a ball. Back on the beach, we sunbathed, swam, snorkelled, made sandcastles, caught mud crabs, and talked of other places we planned to visit together as a family in the years ahead.

On Saturday night after dinner, my boys Jake and Ike were insistent we go flounder spearing, so off with Uncle Scotty it was to the Riwaka sandflats. The howling southerly was cold, and we kitted the boys out in fleece clothing, lifejackets and beach shoes for the long walk out to the low tide mark before full darkness hit.

Out in the shallow incoming waters, we shared the one immersible flounder light we had. Other powerful torches failed to penetrate the wind-chopped water surface adequately to see flounder moving inshore to feed with the tide. The simple spears we carried were home-made with the assistance of the boys one evening previously – slender manuka stakes with a long piece of sharpened steel rammed up a hole in the end of the pole.

Ike was getting cold, and I thought we were going to go home empty-handed when suddenly a flounder appeared before us in the corrugations of the sandy bottom. The boys were excited, urging me on as the spear sank home. What a shot – right through the head – and there was a satisfying throbbing on the spear as the flapping flounder stirred up the sandy bottom.

Scott reached down and put his hand under the flounder to stop it coming loose, and we had our first and only catch of the night. The boys were hooked, and it was the perfect time for a quick photo before heading back to camp.

On the walk back, the boys were excited to catch and release a few small fish and juvenile flounder in their small hand nets, but I knew they had become real flounder men when they talked flat out about saving their pocket money to buy a flounder light each. Somehow, though, I don’t think they’ll have to wait that long, with a birthday coming this month and dad, Uncle Scotty and their granddad keen to take the boys out again as the days get shorter and the nights get longer.

To many people, wading around in the dark, cold waters of Tasman Bay will hold no appeal, but to generations of Mirfin boys, spearing flounder isn’t a matter of life or death – it’s much more important than that.

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