THE WEST COAST

A region well versed in its adventurous roots

- Chris Birt

The pre-dawn of February 26 1983 emerged with a bracing breeze, as early mornings often do in the shadow of New Zealand’s tallest mountain peaks.

In the half-light, thunderous waves crashed into black sands at Kumara, just south of Greymouth. At the water’s edge 79 hardy souls tentatively anticipating the start of one of the biggest adventures of their lives.

An excitable little man with an impressive beard and a commanding character screeched through a mega-phone: ‘Back, get further back!’

This small contingent of scantily-clad individuals retreated, the reluctance at starting a new day immersed in the vast Tasman Sea written all over their collective faces.

As the chills enveloped them, I asked myself what these crazy adventurers were doing there. Equally, what was I doing in such a desolate place as the sand flies honed in for the kill, especially at that ungodly time of the day?

Alongside me was Graeme Brown, a young cameraman in the infancy of his career but eagerly desirous of having his work presented to the adventuring world. At that frozen moment in time he admitted to having those very same thoughts.

Little did he know it but he was capturing on film - digital imagery hadn’t been conceived at that time - adventure racing history in the making. [Graeme’s fantastic images accompanied my words in the next Adventure Magazine].