River chaos beats polished glory in New Zealand’s wildest boat race

There is no shortage of iconic boat races in the world. Some are aspirational, others are elitist. The Thames that runs past London hosts both the Henley Royal Regatta and the Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, which has inspired at least three Hollywood films and many copycat races everywhere from Harvard and Yale in the US, to South African universities racing down the Kowie River in the Eastern Cape.

Other races brave the open seas, traversing the southern Atlantic or circumnavigating the globe. You can sail or row, in a team or all on your own. Unlike the gin and tonics of the regattas or the sweat and blood of the rowing eights, these are more about mental fortitude and grit, and a good dollop of mind-numbing terror, too.

And then there’s the Great Waikato River Classic Outboard Regatta in New Zealand, probably quite unlike anything you’ve ever come across. It’s held every Easter and runs for 142km down the Waikato River from the Karapiro Hydro dam near Cambridge, down to the sea at Hoods Landing, Port Waikato.

The river’s quite challenging. There are rapids and gorges in places, and in others the water level is shallow, dropping to about 50cm. As you get closer to the sea you have to contend with the tide and the windswept marshes of the delta.

But that’s not all: the boats range from homemade to collapsible, and the purists use vintage British Seagull engines that are in equal parts resilient, noisy, underpowered and in constant need of tinkering.

The race has been held every year since 1985 and draws the widest cross-section of participants you can imagine, from ploughmen to plumbers, pilots, poets and professors (there might even have been politicians in some years), but you would be none the wiser, because the race, like so much of New Zealand’s culture, is a wonderful leveller, and no one’s wearing the trappings of their office during the great race.

Rescued off sandbars

Engines invariably break down during the voyage and often have to be fixed midstream. Boats have to be physically rowed, or the crews jump out and pull when the water level is too shallow. Inexperienced skippers sometimes have to be rescued off sandbars, which constantly change as the river rises and falls after rains, and are unmapped and impossible to see.

Where the river widens out in the farmlands, trees and logs lie in wait just under the surface to sabotage the propeller springs, which have to be changed as the boats drift powerless downstream and the crews hang overboard hoping they don’t drop their tools in the river.

The winner has their engine stripped by scrutineers to make sure there is no cheating, no underhand modifications to improve performance.

Obviously, there are people who enter every year to win, but most take part for the sheer joy of puttering down this incredible river that is venerated by the Māori as a living ancestor and sacred treasure, as well as the “mauri” (life force) of the Waikato-Tainui tribes, with “mana” (spiritual authority, prestige, identity) so deeply embedded that the people and the river cannot be separated.

When you grasp the symbolism, it makes total sense that there’s a prize for the last competitor to finish. Not that anyone’s trying for it, but rather as recognition by the organisers of the grit it takes to stay the course and be with the river.

For two days there is no social media on the water, with cellphone use limited to support and navigation, as the competitors make their way to the sea, urged on by their supporters on the banks of the Waikato River and commiserated with as the Seagull engines cut out or die altogether. There’s just incredible camaraderie and conviviality and the making of unforgettable memories, like something straight out of a Pieter Bruegel painting.

Community in its truest form

It is community in its truest form, and as such it’s a very welcome reset from the pressures of everyday life, particularly in a world as volatile, chaotic and deeply dangerous as ours currently is. The Great Annual Waikato River Classic Outboard Regatta is an antidote to the greed and toxic ambition that underpin State Capture and the worst aspects of capitalism.

The moment you start taking yourself too seriously and get above yourself, the river, and the Kiwis, will chew you up. It’s the spirit of “she’ll be right”, “hakuna matata”, or ’n boer maak ’n plan. Instead, there’s the opportunity to be at one with nature, to revel in the privilege of being on a river of the scope and scale of the Waikato as you appreciate the trout, salmon, eels as thick as your forearm and even massive gold koi carp in the water below you, and the incredible nature and bird life above and around you.

There’s no champagne at the end, just a well-earned beer and a wonderful party where everyone gets involved. Best of all, it is totally unpretentious yet incredibly, viscerally real; a brief manifestation of a future that could be: a life with no class distinction, no manosphere, no devil-take-the-hindmost, just the joy of a shared humanity irrespective of where you come from.

A beacon for what we can achieve

The Great Waikato Boat Race is a beacon for what we should aspire to and what we can achieve. We don’t necessarily need the latest technology; after all, Seagull stopped manufacturing engines 30 years ago, and many of the engines in the race were more than 70 years old. We don’t need overweening ambition either, especially when it is directed at the wrong ends. What we do need is an understanding of who we are, where we come from and how we really need each other if we are to go forward successfully.

The good news is that in South Africa we already have the basic tenet of all this in Ubuntu, our identity premised on a shared humanity. We don’t have to travel all the way to the other side of the world to find it. We also have that wonderful African proverb: “If you want to go fast, go alone; but if you want to go far, go together.”

It’s time we became more intentional about both. DM