The comeback kid
Two years ago kayaker Luuka Jones could barely walk down the street without wheezing. In July she’ll represent New Zealand in K1 and the extreme new Kayak Cross at the Olympic Games and hope to fulfil a long-held dream.
Two years ago kayaker Luuka Jones could barely walk down the street without wheezing. In July she’ll represent New Zealand in K1 and the extreme new Kayak Cross at the Olympic Games and hope to fulfil a long-held dream.
Words Karl Puschmann | Photos Graeme Murray + SUPPLIED
Styling Nicky Adams | Hair & Makeup Desiree Osterman
When Luuka Jones was 11 years old, she set a goal that one day she would win an Olympic gold medal. In July, the 35-year-old kayaker will
look to fulfil that long-held ambition when she travels to Paris to represent New Zealand in her fifth – yes, fifth – Olympic games.
What makes her young promise so audacious is that back then, she was not a young kayaking prodigy nor was she showing promise of becoming the history-making athlete that she is now. Heck, she wasn’t even kayaking competitively. She’d barely gotten her feet wet, having only learned how to paddle a year earlier.
“I don't know where that goal came from,” she laughs, thinking back to her humble beginnings on the water. “But I do have a strong memory of setting it. I was babysitting for my neighbours. They had Sky TV so I was able to watch Sarah Ulmer win her gold medal at the Olympics. It must have inspired me.” Watching Sarah Ulmer whiz over the line at the 2004 games in Athens sparked something in Luuka. Sarah had just given New Zealand its first-ever gold medal in cycling and set a new world record in the process. Witnessing history being made was life-changing for the young Tauranga local watching along on the TV.
Shortly after she remembers entering the Waimarino Intermediate School kayak challenge on the Wairoa River. The event was a multi-stage race that strung various kayaking disciplines together and challenged participants across a wide range of skills.
She says she felt focussed and completely determined.
“I remember the nerves. The other girls were all really good but I was so motivated to try and win that competition. I remember how good it felt when I did,” she smiles, still looking chuffed at the result. “That feeling of winning never gets old. It's a deep satisfaction that you achieved something.”
It will not surprise you at all to learn that Luuka has a fierce competitive streak. It’s something you need to become a world-class athlete competing in two events at the Olympics – K1 slalom racing and the new Kayak Cross event – with all the discipline and training that is required. She guesses it was inherited. Her nana was a competitive tennis player and basketballer and her mum also plays tennis. Her sisters haven't been involved in high-level sport but their blood still pumps with that same fire.
“We played a lot of competitive board games,” she laughs. “We’d play The Game of Life and all be doing whatever it took to win. I've just always had a competitive streak. I guess what’s driven me is that I found a sport that I absolutely loved. I was going to do anything to try and get better at it.” Then she pauses and says, “It’s just been quite a long road.”
That road started on a farm. Before Luuka hit her teens, her grandparents bought some farmland next to the Wairoa River and then, shortly later, her parents moved the family next door. She started swimming lessons at the nearby Waimarino Water and Adventure Park, which is still running today, and then took up kayaking lessons, working at the park in exchange for the lessons.
“Barbara and Barry, who owned the park, were incredible and really supportive of me,” she says.
She quickly grew to love recreational kayaking. She would go away on kayak camping trips and learned how to paddle the river’s gnarly whitewater. Her skills quickly improved and before too long she was navigating the entire whitewater section right down to below McLaren Falls.
“It was such a buzz,” she enthuses. “You learn skills that you don’t know you’re learning and get that whitewater confidence. But it’s also the joy of being out on the river with everyone. That camaraderie and friendship. Some of the people I met early on in my recreation career are still my friends today.”
In a few short months, the sport of Kayak Cross will make its Olympic debut. After taking first place at last October’s World Cup in France, Luuka is considered a favourite for the event.
This kayak offshoot is best described as a mix of raw physical strength and chess-like tactics that plays out in real-time among swirling rapids.
It is thrilling to watch.
At the start of the race, the kayakers plunge down a steep ramp straight into the frothing waters below. They are frighteningly close to each other and then, suddenly, they’re not as they disappear into a flurry of paddles and shoot along their chosen lines through the whitewater and around the gates that make up the course. From their vantage point at the top of the ramp, the athletes have a split second to see a line that accounts for speed, the churning waters, and take a guess at what their competitors are thinking. Plans can rapidly go out the window. Ramp position, the way the kayak hits the water at the bottom of the ramp, and even a little bit of competitive argy-bargy on the water can sink any Olympic dreams. Kayak Cross is both physically and mentally demanding. And not without its dangers.
“It’s very tactical. Some lines are shorter or faster but people are chasing you or you’re chasing someone and you're having to read the whitewater, navigate the gates, and interpret what other people are doing. You’re under pressure because someone’s going to try and take you out or smash into you. You really need to be aggressive. There’s so much going on. That’s what I love about the event.”
As Luuka explains the physical, aggressive, aspect of Kayak Cross, I can’t help but notice a little glint in her eye. I point this out and she laughs and exclaims, “It’s true!” before elaborating.
“If you’re behind someone, you really do need to come down and smash them out of position.”
We both laugh and then she says, “But it is quite nerve-wracking, sitting up on that ramp,” before explaining what it’s like.
“You have your plan, but when you launch in you have no idea what’s going to unfold. You all launch at the same time and you want to be fast down the ramp and people are paddling and there’s so much going on that you have to be quite calm and composed in what is an incredibly chaotic situation. You hope that when you land, you’re going to be out in front, but that doesn’t always happen. You could get a paddle to the face.”
The most extraordinary part of Luuka’s journey to the 2024 Olympic Games, and what will make it ripe for a movie adaptation if she does indeed win the gold medal, is that less than two years ago she was diagnosed with Long Covid. It well and truly knocked her out. Forget about gold medals, she could barely make it to the letterbox without becoming puffed out of breath and needing to rest.
Her illness forced her to completely drop out of the 2022 season, losing the whole year as she rested and recuperated. For the competitive, world-class athlete, it was devastating and led to many dark days and sleepless soul-searching. During that long, hard year Luuka admits that she often thought about quitting and regularly questioned not just her commitment to kayaking but also her love for it.
“It was a hugely challenging experience,” she sighs. “I realised a lot of my happiness was wrapped up in physical activity. It wasn’t that I just couldn’t compete for a year, it was that I couldn’t do anything physical. Going for a walk was a big deal. I couldn’t feel competitive so I wasn’t excited about coming back to race. I was starting to question,
‘Should I even be doing this?’ or ‘Am I ever going to come back after a year out?’ All these thoughts cross your mind.”
It sounds like there may have been some depression seeping in, understandable given the circumstances, and she nods and heavily says, “Yeah, probably a little bit.”
Luuka talks about installing a hyperbaric chamber in her garage and laying in it for a couple of hours each day to get more oxygen to her lungs and help her body fight the infection.
Her recovery routine started out with three training sessions per week. If she had a recovery week, she never really enjoyed it, as she never felt like she'd earned it.
Eventually, after an incredibly difficult year, the fog lifted and Luuka felt able to race. She entered the Nationals, an action she describes as “a big deal” after her year off. She paddled well but disaster struck when she injured her neck. The injury took her out of contention for another couple of weeks. This set a pattern where she’d return only to hurt her knee or stuff up her arm. It seemed like every time she hit the water, she’d land another injury and be confined back to land.
“It wasn’t all just Covid, it was all these little obstacles along the way to getting back into full-time training,” she explains. “But my philosophy is that there’s an opportunity in everything. So I tried to look for the opportunities.”
One was being able to spend the year in New Zealand with her fiancé and her family instead of being off competing in Europe as she usually would be. But the biggest thing, she says, was that the enforced time off ultimately led to rediscovering her love for the sport.
“Before Covid I’d get so caught up in my mistakes. If I had a bad session, I’d take it home with me and be really pissed off for a long time. Now I’m just grateful for being out on the water, feeling those sensations and being able to paddle again. I’m glad I wrote down in my journal what was going on because I can look back and be like, ‘Oh, yeah, that was tough.’
“But I’m the sort of person who just charges forward and doesn’t really hold on to those things too much,” she continues. “They make you more resilient, or they teach you something at the time, and then you just have to crack on.”
For someone about to compete in two events against the best athletes in the world at the most prestigious and globally historic sporting competition, Luuka is extremely relaxed. She’s in good spirits and feeling confident.
“I think it’s easy to be relaxed when you’re a few months out from the Games,” she jokes. “But it’s a high-pressure event, for everyone, and we’re all in the same boat, excuse the pun. But I try and put a lot of effort into preparing mentally as well as physically. It’s a big occasion with a lot of pressure and a lot of distractions. When I visualise the Olympics I feel a bit nervous. But I enjoy this time of year because it’s been a three-year build, and it all starts coming to fruition.”
Luuka’s comeback is nearly complete. She’s mentally and physically prepared. She’s going in as a favourite. And, perhaps most of all, she’s excited.
In her astonishing career, she’s set so many kayak slalom records in New Zealand, brought home so many medals, and competed in those four previous Olympic Games that she’s now the athlete that young babysitters around Aotearoa are watching compete on TV.
“I sometimes forget that maybe I am a role model because I still haven’t achieved what I want to achieve, or I’m not at that level yet,” she says, referencing her decades-old goal.
“But when I reflect on my journey I have a lot of things to share, and it’s nice to maybe inspire someone to pick up a paddle or pursue something that they’re passionate about. That would make me really happy to know that I've helped someone to chase their dream.”
Which circles us back to the start. Luuka got Silver at Rio. Will she get Gold in Paris fulfilling the goal she set for herself all those years ago?
“Hopefully, yeah! I mean, that’s the goal,” she laughs. “My fiancé, my family and my friends will all be there watching. It’s a really special occasion to share with them and then to go out there and see what I can do. And it’s so exciting to represent the Bay.”
Then she smiles warmly and says, “Really, I’m just a small-town girl from Tauranga.”