April 25, 2010
The damage report came back on the van. The motor is toast. In overheating I damaged the block. For $2500, I could get a new motor delivered from Auckland, installed and have the radiator and water pump replaced. While $2500 is a lot of money, it would likely cost me close to that to get a replacement. If I chose not to repair the van, several options were available to me. First, I could try to find a suitable replacement. Invercargill is not exactly a bustling metropolis. At 50,000 people, there is a weekly car auction but it’s not likely that I would find something good in my price range and I would have to sacrifice a week to wait for the auction. I could take the bus to Christchurch, the largest city on the South Island, and try to find something there. Assuming I purchased a new used vehicle there I would have to drive it 8+ hours to Invercargill to pick up all of my gear from Orange Whip. Either way, I’m looking at a couple hundred dollars for food, gas and lodging not including the price of the vehicle. And, buying a new used car is no guarantee that car troubles won’t strike me again. Another option is to avoid owning another van. I could rent a van from one of the many camper van rental places but it would run me more than a grand for the estimated remaining month of my tour, but then I won’t have a vehicle when I make home somewhere. The last option is to bail on the travels and ship my gear north. I could start job hunting and settle wherever I get a job and buy a vehicle to suit my living situation. I’m just not ready to quit traveling. I am enjoying the freedom, the adventure and the flexibility. Ultimately, it makes more sense right now to spend the money and get the van fixed.
So what to do with the week and a half of down time? Fly to Australia of course! Many of you know Jaime Ustin. For those who don’t, she’s a close friend from Los Angeles. If I could only describe her with “B” words I would use “bubbly”, “blonde”, “booze”, “bars”, “boobs” and “ebullient”. Jaime has a fun and energetic way about her that sucks people in and makes them a believer. About 2 years back she decided to do a grad school program in Sydney. I suspect it was to meet boys with Aussie accents, but whatever her reasons Sydney seems to be a great fit for her and she’s always effusive about the city and her experiences. From the moment I mentioned the hint of an embryonic notion of the idea of moving to New Zealand she has been chirping away about me coming to visit. No better time than the present. Tomorrow morning I’m boarding a flight to Sydney.
This leaves the matter of a week plus of lost travel stories that I would have written about had I not been dealing with the van. To condense it, I met up with Tyler Eck—one of my brother’s surfing buddies and fellow Torrey Pines High School graduate—in Christchurch where he is doing an enology program. Tyler and I drove separately to Dunedin where we stayed with Michela Rizzo—the little sister of the roommate of a girl I used to date—who is taking valuable time out from partying at CU Boulder to party abroad at the University of Otago. The oldest university in New Zealand, it is known for its drinking culture. We were there for a weekend and town on Saturday night looked like the first scene in Saving Private Ryan where the soldiers storm the beach at Normandy. Except replace soldiers with students and then imagine them drunk. Kids were stumbling in every direction, impervious to the cold, basic traffic rules and any sense of wellbeing. Even though our nights were accounted for, Tyler and I did manage to explore the nearby Otago Peninsula for surf. There was a massive south swell and an equally fierce west wind which created some challenging and messy surf conditions. The first day we surfed a break called Victoria Bay which required us to hike 45 minutes across sand dunes to a penguin breeding ground. We didn’t see any penguins but we did get powerful, double-overhead beach break surf. I got worked. Tyler had a blast. The next day we surfed a much more accessible break called Allen’s Beach. I found a slightly smaller sandbar with a perfect peeling right hander with consistent barrels.
At the end of the weekend, Tyler had to return to school and I headed south to The Catlins. The Catlins are the remote rolling hills and generally unspoiled stretch of land between Otago and the Fiordlands. I checked out a lot of cool beaches, a blow hole 200 yards inland, a waterfall, penguin breeding grounds and a petrified forest only exposed at low tide before the van broke down. There are still a few attractions I want to go back and see, plus a few awesome surf spots that are begging for a cold water surf. Maybe in a week when I get back from Australia…
