The Kontiki

As I was loading up my kayak on the beach with my fishing rods and other gear, a woman in a pink bikini came by and asked me to look out for a stray Kontiki that had got away. “It might be floating around out there with fish on the longline,” she said.

I said I would keep an eye out for it. I knew what to look out for. Trevor Saxby had one and he and his mates had been skiting about their big catches. “Just sit on the beach and have a few beers,” they said, “while the Kontiki motors out with your longline and does all the work. Bugger all that paddling and getting tipped out of your kayak in the surf.”

I trawled a softbait as I paddled out and caught a barracuda when I got into deeper water. A long, narrow fish with big sharp teeth. Not good for eating, as they usually have lots of parasites, but good snapper bait. I paddled further out and baited up two rods with cut up barracuda. I was busy catching snapper and didn’t notice I was drifting quite a long way out.

Dark clouds were gathering, an offshore wind was getting up and the sea, which had been so calm when I set out, was getting choppy, so I decided to head back to shore. Could get quite tricky. I had drifted out quite a long way. Too easy going out. Maybe too hard getting back. A fizz boat sped past me, throwing up a wake, which slopped over the side of the kayak and gave me a wet seat.

I hadn’t given any more thought to the lost Kontiki till I spotted a little red flag bobbing about in the waves and I paddled over to the bright red torpedo. I wasn’t sure if it was the lost Kontiki. There could be others out. Could even be Trevor’s. Anyway they’re worth thousands of dollars and it might have been the stray, so I tied a leash onto it and started paddling back with it. Could be a grateful pink bikini at the end of it. I kept my eye on the landmark on the shore as I paddled: the big blue house, just visible in the distance, but it didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

I was battling a headwind as well as the outgoing tide. I would get exhausted at the rate I was going. Getting tricky all right. I wasn’t going to say dangerous, but I even started thinking I might have to get my cell phone out of the watertight hatch and make a call. Trying to tow in the Kontiki as well was too much, so I let it go. To my surprise it took off toward the shore, seemingly of its own accord. To my further surprise I found my fishing line was hooked onto it and it had me in tow. Someone onshore was winching the thing in and me with it. All I had to do was hang on tight to my rod. When I got closer to shore, I could see the lanky bugger in the black singlet and the white gumboots. I was pretty sure it was Trevor, with a couple of his mates. Their voices and laughter were wafting out on the wind. I cut my line and made a show of paddling hard out as I approached the shore and caught a wave onto the beach. It was some distance along the coast from my landmark and Taylor Reserve, where I’d parked my car, but I could walk along the beach back to the car and drive down Motiti Road to this other beach access.

Trevor and them didn’t take much notice of me as they were more concerned about the Kontiki, which came ashore minus its longline. “No fish and no bloody longline,” they were saying, and they were cursing the loss of their gear. “At least the Kontiki came home,” Trevor said.

I pulled the kayak up onto the beach and unloaded my catch of snapper. Trevor gave the fish a side-eye glance and gave me a guy nod. Then he trundled off with the Kontiki with his mates in tow.