Every trip has a few hiccups, but ours nearly ended before it even began. That’s the deal with old vehicles—full of charm, but always keeping you on your toes. We picked up our boat in Mt Maunganui, loaded it up, and hit the road. The Landy struggled up the hills, overheating until the dash lit up like a Christmas tree. We pulled over, let it cool down, and crossed our fingers. After 20 minutes, we were back in business. Not exactly a reassuring start.

Lake Tarawera, a volcanic lake in New Zealand’s Bay of Plenty, is known for its geothermal waters, breathtaking scenery, and deep Māori history. Miraculously, our 50-year-old outboard fired up first pop and we were away.

We crossed the lake to Hot Water Beach, where we'd set up camp for the next two nights. The DOC campsite was simple—just toilets, no running water—so we’d brought everything we needed. With the boat loaded up with gear, we were going nowhere fast.

The sun was out and we were keen to get back out on the water. With a lighter boat and some local fishing tips in hand, we headed out to chase trout.

No luck. Not even a bite. But with a few cold ones cracked and no fish to show for it, we spotted a rock jump across the bay and figured that was more our speed.

The lake’s natural hot pools made for the perfect cycle—jump, soak, repeat.

As the sun set, we headed back to camp for a one-pot wonder dinner—minimal dishes, maximum reward.

The next morning was grim. Rain hammered down all night and didn’t let up. Over coffee, we decided to make a run to Rotorua for more fuel—we’d underestimated how much we’d need.

That crossing was dicey. Photos don't do it justice, but a strong side on chop filled the boat with water, slowing us to a crawl. Had we run out of fuel or broke down I think the boat probably would've sunk haha.

Nevertheless we made it and spent most of the day keeping dry in town, waiting for the weather to pass.

On the way back to camp, we took one last crack at fishing, but once again—no luck. Either the fish weren’t hungry, or we were just no good.

The sun was back out for our last day on the lake; it was a beauty! After a quick coffee, we set off across the lake for a hike to Tarawera Falls.

The boys, assuming it was a short walk, went barefoot. Turns out it was a 1.5-hour trek each way. Tough buggers.

We sat at this waterfall for half an hour, convinced we’d made it, until another group showed us a photo of the real Tarawera Falls. A classic mix-up. We pushed on and finally reached the right spot—worth the wait!

There’s nothing better than getting off the grid with mates—no service, no distractions, just a few days of exploring, fishing (or at least trying), and kicking back.

Despite a few setbacks—dodgy weather, rough crossings, and zero trout—we had a great time. Simple living. 

Until next time, Tarawera.