Duration: two days
Cost: NZ$150 per person plus NZ$12 camping fee
Difficulty: Your parents could do it

The kayak safety briefing took nearly four hours. We were taught how to use the emergency flares and what do if the boat is capsized by a killer whale.

It was later revealed by our instructor, Tim, that this has never happened to anyone.

He taught how to board the two-seater kayak in case someone falls off and how to read the mood of the sea for signs of storms ahead. And we learned how to land in case one arrived.

It didn’t. The sea during our two-day tour of Abel Tasman National Park was as tame as the baby seals we paddled with.

But no one takes chances when it come to “freedom kayaking”, the term for those who don’t want a guide holding their hands and showing them where to look. This freedom demanded a particular kind of preliminary hand-holding.

Tim didn’t crack many jokes, thankfully, and the few he did were winners. We learned, for instance, that the water pump, normally used to empty the kayak of sea water, can be handy when aimed at a paddling partner who stops paddling.

After the briefing, we were driven to the launch wharf, with the kayaks, to learn basic manoeuvres. It was low tide and the sea had receded 300 meters from the shore. You could fit a dozen soccer fields in the sand. Hence the tractors, to pull the trailers so far into the bay.

The lesson took 30 minutes and Tim was easily pleased. No one drowned and that seemed good enough.

We drove back to the kayak base to grab our belongings, which had stayed behind.  Then we drove back to the wharf.

Why this couldn’t be done at the beginning confounded me. I could only guess the kayak lesson was to ensure no one freaked out at the sight of water.

The plan was this: take a water taxi with our double kayaks and paddle from the northern tip of the park back to the base. Camp on one of several coves along the way. See baby seals.

The boat ride to Onetatuhi Beach, the northernmost bay, took 20 minutes and spoiled quick glimpses of the coves we would see on the way down. The park was nearly empty. Other kayakers were barely visible at a distance. The perfect white sand at most coves were gorgeously barren.

Paddling south gives you the benefit of the southerly sea breeze. It’s described as cycling downhill, but it was nothing like that. We burned enough energy kayaking to merit a snack break every hour or so.

Once in the open water, you’re spectacularly free from any safety nannies. You’re at the mercy of the sea, and if the sea is calm, of your own abilities.

The waterproof map says that Pinnacle Island, one kilometre from the coast, has a seal colony. We eased in to a rocky inlet and there they were, lumps of black and brown surging and splashing in the water. Pups.

Watch of a video of them here.

They keep their distance at first, but once they see you’re no threat, they chance a closer look. Some like to show off their newly-learned swimming skills, doing circles and pirouettes on the surface. Others backstroke by while scratching their bellies.

It’s as though they know how cute they are. They adults, fat and grey, just lie on the rocks and periodically let out a grumpy yawn.

Anchorage was our camping cove of choice, with a long beach and access to the coastal track that hugs the length of the park. Our camping gear was Spartan, and this was good: our neighbours happened to be three kiwi families with several kilograms of meat, five coolers, several cases of beer, and a litre-bottle each of vodka, gin, rum, and bourbon.

After dining on crackers and hummus, they insisted on giving us a second feast and getting us moderately drunk.

It helped us sleep through their snoring.

Day 2

The morning was chilly and dewy, and we slept long past our intended launch hour of 8am. It was 10 by the time we left the shore and were hungry for lunch two hours later.

Our shoulder muscles were fine, contrary to our expectations. We actually paddled better and faster then the day before.

Adele Island has a pristine virgin beach and provided the perfect meal venue. Rocks by the water were just loaded with green-shelled mussels, which visitors are welcome to take.

See a recipe for green shelled mussels here.

We landed back at the kayak base at 2:30pm, satisfied but hoping that one day, if by a brief fortune, we may see the adorable seals.