Auckland Baptist Tramping Club 2001 The Cape Brett peninsula lounges like a guardian dragon at the southern end of the Bay of Islands.  But on September 29/30, 2001, it met its match, at the feet of 14 intrepid Baptist T.C. trampers.   Rumour was, that the 7 to 8 hour tramp could be daunting.  Even a previous B.T.C. expedition had struggled.  Friends reported making the trip one way recently, but opting to boat back.  Preliminary investigations discovered that, yes, it is possible to arrange with Fullers to be picked up for the return, either at the Cape (if sea conditions allow) or at Deep Water Cove (about 3 hours back from the Cape).  Another option is to contact Ivan Snowden, who runs a water taxi out of Rawhiti.  In the event, the tramp both ways proved reasonably demanding, but eminently attainable and immensely enjoyable.  We tamed the dragon. Friday - Saturday On Friday evening, we gathered at the Bay of Islands College marae.  There we laid our plan and slept (somewhat!) till dawn.  The local Baptist pastor, Graham Freethy, very kindly allowed us to leave our surplus vehicles safely at his home and, after a 6 am breakfast, we made it in 3 vehicles to the ferry at Opua Bay by around 7.  It's quite a long drive from the landing to the start of the track at Oke Bay, Rawhiti, but by 8.30, with vehicles secured at Hartwells, Kaimarama Bay, we had launched our assault on the Cape. The initial climb is quite long and steep, but the Lady Katrina leads us triumphantly, Sir Nelson musters manfully, Sir Peter, with radio and GPS, guides gallantly, and soon we stand atop the dragon's haunch.  Below us, in fair weather, the blue bay teems with islands.  Before us, the dragon's body stretches, bush-clad, undulating like the spiny back of some colossal ancient dinosaur. Here and there, to left and right, through the green canopy, sea views expand to the horizon.   We follow the well-defined track, dipping and rising, plunging and soaring, through bush once ravaged by opossum, as bleached, bare trunks here and there testify.  Yet the jungle is regenerating strongly, with green and gold spring growth everywhere.  At one point, an electric fence spans the whole peninsula.  To deter 'possums?  Or is this, after all, Jurassic Park?  Warily, with valour, we advance. The last two hours are the most dramatic.  We skirt steep cliffs, descending to the neck of the dragon and then fronting the final ascent to gain the head.  There below us is the dreadful single eye, the Cape lighthouse.  Beyond that the snout: the cape itself.  Off to starboard, like some monstrous, prehistoric cetacean, swims Piercy Island, with its single blowhole.  We have taken command!  We can make the final fall to the DOC hut unopposed.  Here we will spend the night.  Yet even here, in the water supply, we smell and savour the sulphurous stench of the dragon's breath! Sunday We were away by 7 am next morning.  The hardest bit of all was the initial ascent up past the lighthouse.  Some calves were crying!  Some of us filled bottles from a valley stream, glad to replace the DOC hut water.  Laurie led devotions at the summit of an old Maori pa site.  There are several on the peninsula.  Some of us went a little slower on the return trip (a certain "Nepalese porter", aka Max, did the opposite!).  However, we were all back at Rawhiti Rd within about 8 hours.  Two beautiful days.  Varied and lovely country, bush and sea.  A testing but very manageable trek.  A truly classic tramp.  Thank you, Lord! (SCRIBE - Warren)