Heirloom Wedding Ring Recovered from Estuary at Pataua

Robyn rang me, pretty upset. Her husband had just lost his wedding ring while swimming in the estuary at Pātaua. It had slipped off just a few hours earlier, but by the time she called, the tide was already well on its way in putting it out of reach.

We had two choices: wait until morning and search in daylight, or hit the road straight away and catch the next low tide at midnight.
I didn’t have anything planned that night, and Robyn and her husband were keen to do whatever it took to get the ring back. So I loaded the car and started the two-hour drive south.

I arrived at about half tide at 9:30pm, and the outgoing current was… impressive!
The plan was to work the shallows first, then move gradually deeper as the tide eased and the current dropped. Wearing both of my dive weight belts — I normally only use one 35kg belt, but together they put me at around 50kg of lead — I staggered into the water and began the search pattern.

I was covering ground faster than expected and easily keeping ahead of the falling water level. Soon I was chest-deep, leaning hard into the current with my toes dug into the sand downstream.
Fighting the current was relentless — Much harder than a surf recovery. At least in the surf you get a slight break between waves.
I was right on the balance point of traction vs current when I heard a clean gold tone in the headphones.
I had absolutely no spare weight to transfer to the scoop, and I was starting to slide and lose grip in the shelly bottom. Getting swept downstream was becoming a real risk, so discretion won.

The target wasn’t going anywhere. If things went south, I didn’t want the added work of later trying to find my ditched weightbelts as well.
I took a few transit bearings in the moonlight to mark the spot, then carefully worked my way back to shore to wait.

It didn’t take long before the level had dropped 6″ or so, enough to have another shot.
I waded back out and lined myself up again. The current was still strong, but that little bit less depth made all the difference.
Within minutes I’d relocated the target and managed to force the scoop into position against the flow. First bite – and silence from the coil. It was in the scoop.

I waded back into the shallows, washed the sand out of the basket, and there it was, in the torchlight: a gold ring sitting on the shells in the corner.

Robyn and Lars were rapt – and I think still half in disbelief.

I finally got home around 1am and crawled into bed completely exhausted.

Worth it.