Tuesday, 09 February – Tuesday, 16th February
The first night is steady rain. All night. Only realising in the morning, that the tent floor is wet. Inside! But only under my air mattress and air pillow. The direct pressure on the tent floor had drawn moisture through it. The rest is fine. I slept well enough through the night regardless. Saved by Sea to Summit air mattress and pillow, again.
Applied sandfly defences before emerging from the tent into the adjoining tarp shelter. The rain is still intermittent. Made a coffee and went for a walk to survey my new digs. Between showers. There is a fresh set of deer prints along the beach; below the high water mark. Must have come past early this morning. After the tide had ebbed somewhat. And clearly good grazing and shelter for them at either end of the beach. I follow the prints towards the scrub line and find fresh droppings and more prints in the mud. Dearly like to spot one sometime.
I can tell it’s really rough outside the Bay. Very glad to be tucked in here. I’m completely sheltered by the surrounding cliffs. There wouldn’t be many better places to be hold up in. Be patient. Conditions will come right.
Return to camp for a half ration of muesli and tea. Figure I can easily cut down on consumption when not paddling.
Wandered off to find a good water source. There are some trickles nearby; under the cliffs. But these will dry up quickly after the rain. I find a creek with a larger catchment beyond the arch. It has good flow but is still brackish. Looks like strong tea. Or whiskey. And tastes good.
On the way back I check the rocky areas around the arch; for paua. There are multiple pools left with the receding tide. I have a casual look, thinking there must be easy pickings here somewhere. Very surprisingly I see NO paua! I haven’t got serious yet. I’m keeping my socks dry. For now.
Back at camp, I composed a few messages for inReach but for some reason my iPhone wouldn’t sync with it. Sent messages the hard way, directly from the inReach unit. Painfully slow. Realise how reliant on comms I am out here.
The sandflies are incredible. In size and numbers. Keeping moving is a good option. Or the sandfly clouds settle all over your body. And there are clouds hovering in reserve! I have 40% deet repellent on my hands and a few still get through. They penetrate the head net where it makes contact with the skin. Guaranteed! Smearing deet over the head net is a good idea. My sipper cup of tea is covered especially around the sipper opening. Some crawl through. Or fall through. There are lumps with each sip. I guess there’s protein there. Haven’t figured out where these critters fit into natures balance. What sustains so many of them? They don’t just hang out till the next silly human comes along; do they? Need to learn more about their life cycle.
Overall I easily come to terms with them. Got to. With protection, they can be largely ignored. Until one sneaks through the defences. That occurs often.
Some of my observations of them so far: – In (or near) the bush, they are more concentrated in numbers; They don’t like the wind or the wet; and seem to prefer cooler temperatures. They are attracted to light; natural or artificial. And they do not venture over water very far. They can fly very quickly though; but not for long. I tried out-sprinting them on Secala a few times; while paddling away from the beach. Watched a cloud of them hovering over my bow for a surprising period of time.
I explore the southern end of the beach (pictured across the bay above) at low tide. An amazing area. There is a seal colony on the islet with many seal pups congregating in the cavern that runs right through it. I didn’t explore the cavern. To avoid upsetting the pups. And their mums! There is plenty of paua across the isthmus. Easy pickings. I keep my socks dry. A great habitat for deer in the low manuka scrub above the beach. There is a narrow view through to the open sea to the SW too. Which is handy.
The days roll by. Routines are established. Roll out of the tent at dawn. Reconsider my paddle options first. Check the conditions in the Bay and beyond. As best I can. Compare this against the forecast. Are there any fishing boats around that I can talk to? Make a final decision to stay or go.
I spend the day outside wherever possible; and generally on the move. Doing something. Either walking around the coast to the east; checking for fresh deer sign everywhere I go. And do a casual deer stalk, of sorts, when I’m not in a “winded” position.
I often carry my VHF when heading away from camp. Fishing boats turn up randomly checking pots or seeking shelter. I have a good chat with a couple of them during my time here. Disappointed at a few fishing boats that didn’t reply on VHF. I expect there are good reasons. The working channel around here is 10. I default to this channel first and try 16 if unsuccessful. The fishermen I do chat with are genuine good buggers. I expect all the fishermen are; in these parts. It comes naturally for them to enquire about peoples welfare. Where it’s clear that people are not normally meant to be. They offer me crayfish and I even get an offer of a ride out to Jackson Bay.
I explore the isthmus area everyday at low tide observing seals, birdlife and getting paua. I paddle around the islets and reefs and go fishing for blue cod. Replenish water supplies; work out the daily food intake; confirm the tally of remaining food. I walk the high tide zone gathering foreign matter (usually plastic) to burn. Collect fire wood; build a fire; making a coffee or tea to enjoy at my favourite spot by the arch. Write up my log. The days slip by easily.
It’s surprisingly easy to reduce the food intake. I just don’t feel hungry. At all. Often I get through the day on coffee, tea; some dried fruit and nuts. A little chocolate or an Em’s cookie. Until the evening meal. This will be large portions of fresh fish or paua with a half ration of gnocchi or rice cooked in coconut oil and garlic. Occasionally I will have half a cup of muesli in the morning. The day prior to a paddle day I resume ‘normal’ consumption. In preparation.
On most days, the cloud disperses by mid morning. Allowing the solar panel to do its work charging up the power bank, iPhone, inReach and GoPro. Once fully charged the iPhone and inReach are back talking to each other. Thankfully! The Goalzero solar panel works a treat.
I don’t go inside the tent all day. On good days. To prevent sandfly intrusion. And its too beautiful and enjoyable outside to swap for the inside of a tent.
Once I do go into the tent in the evening, I stay put. I have my pee bottle just outside the zip on one side. The drink bottle just outside the zip on the opposite side. Precautionary measure. Still risky. But segregation helps. And insect repellent is right there too; for the morning pre-exit application.
The first job when inside the tent is sandfly eradication. There are usually a couple of hundred sandflies in with me initially. The vast majority are attracted towards the lightest area of the tent. This is always a high point and where the evening light filters through the trees the strongest. Full hand swipes across the tent surface takes out, or disables, about 10 at a time. Then wait for them to re-settle. When down to the last 20 or so I target individuals until there are only a few left. All up, takes about half an hour. The greatest pleasure is getting the ones gorged with my blood. Retribution is sweet. But tinged with disappointment that they beat my defences. Red stains are accumulating on the tent walls.
It can be creepy when it’s dark; listening to hordes of sandflies tapping on the outside of the tent. It sounds like a steady light rain. Best not to dwell on it. In the morning they are still there. Under a microscope I’m sure they would look like vampires! Best not to dwell on it.
The wind forecasts for Puysegur over the coming days sway from strong SW to stronger Nly winds.
Tuesday, 9th Feb – Forecast S 25kt. Steady rain overnight easing up during the morning. A sunny afternoon with the wind picking up considerably.
Wednesday, 10th Feb – Forecast. Shaz simply says “NO GO”. Light rain all night and day. Miserable. Cooler. There is more Sly in the wind. Shore dump in Bay. Too rough even for paua gathering. Encouraging words from Lynn (Red) Paterson today – to enjoy while I can; too soon I will be moving on from this beautiful place.
Thursday, 11th Feb – Forecast SW 25kt. Rained all night and most of the day. Sea conditions bad. A break-out through the Islets impossible at low tide. Plenty of seaweed washes up on the beach.
Friday, 12th Feb – Forecast NW 24kt. Fine day. Calm in the Bay. No chance of a launch today.
Saturday, 13th Feb – Forecast Nly 40kt. Cloudy for most of the day.
Sunday, 14th Feb – Forecast Nly 40kt. Cloudy start to day; then fine. Calm in the Bay. The forecast looks better tomorrow.
It’s difficult to read the sea conditions from the Bay. My next destination is Puysegur Landing (Preservation Inlet); or further to Landing Bay (Chalky Inlet) if possible. This is one of the most notorious and remote stretches of coastline in the country. Puysegur Landing is only 4hrs paddle away via Long Reef Point, Windsor Point, Marshall Rocks and, not least, Puysegur Point. However this route is NW out of the Bay. And I cannot see in this direction; to assess conditions, from inside the Bay.
The forecasts are confounding too. I chat with cray fishermen coming close into the Bay whenever I can. At times, when conditions look good from the beach; there is a gale warning issued for Puysegur. When I asked a fisherman about this, he says “I know” in a cynical tone. And at other times, when the forecast is acceptable; the fishermen warn against very sloppy sea conditions outside. Can’t beat real observations from local fishermen. I will always take their advice. In these parts!
For these most extreme locations (eg Northern Capes, Cape Palliser, East Cape, Kaipara), and some lesser ones; I ensure all factors align in my favour. For me, Windsor, Puysegur, Providence and West Cape not only have a bad reputation, but are the most remote. Firstly, weather forecasts (plural) must align. Second, my observations in the morning must concur; and lastly, it must feel right when I’m on the water.
Some days it’s obvious that conditions are really bad and I’m lucky to be in such a wonderful location. On others it’s confounding that I can’t paddle. Be patient ……Be safe. Listen to the fishermen; take heed of the forecasts. There are very few escape routes. When you are out there, you’re pretty much alone and committed. This is not an area to take risks.
The Bay gets quite deep straight off the beach and there are large reef bombies scattered all though it; most of which have bull kelp hanging off them. With my handline I had a couple of bottomship lures and ledger rigs made up with 5/0 hooks and some lumo tube to help keep the rigs from tangling.
I launch and feel the lightness of an empty Secala with the first few paddle strokes off the beach. All I have on board is my handline, tackle, a paua, a bait knife and an old shopping bag in the cockpit to put the fish into. In the bay I try a bottomship lure first, constantly working the handline so that I keep it just off the bottom. While I drifted. The depth varied between 5 – 10mts. Before long I had snagged a lure on something and had to cut it free. Tied on a ledger rig on with some fresh paua bait and instantly a good size wrasse came to the surface. Two more drops and instantly two more wrasse. Missed out on my target species – blue cod; but I wasn’t going to let these go to waste. They will be just fine with my rice or gnocchi.
From then on I paddled out beyond the Bay into deeper water. For blue cod. About 20mt by my reckoning (hand line estimate) and the cod are jumping on two at a time. Too easy.
Large portions of fish and paua bolster my rations significantly allowing me to halve each of my daily portions of vacuum sealed gnocchi or rice.
The only downside to the fishing routine is getting changed. From my dry clothes into my wetsuit. And back again. After the fishing. The speed of changing is my only defence. The gear is carefully laid out in front of me. As soon as I have my wetsuit peeled down to my waist, the sandflies immediately latch onto all available skin. There is no lag time. They are always hovering. I run down the beach while trying to get my long sleeve top on. The stinging ramps up the urgency. I’m yelping as I run. This doesn’t help. Just adds unnecessary drama. It would all look very funny. If anyone was watching. When the top is on, I slide it around my upper body to dislodge or kill the sandflies trapped beneath. And then I have to do the bottom half. Oh dear! I kick off the wetsuit as quickly as possible. I can’t run this time! But I can yelp! Much more meaningfully. Everything gets a hammering. A static target. It’s a genuine emergency now. My dry long johns are carefully laid out in front of me. I have coiled each long john leg up for quicker leg insertion. Apparently! Trying to be quick, sometimes isn’t. When trying too hard. The long johns don’t slide over damp legs easily. Giving more precious seconds to the sandflies. Finally there is rubbing and swiping over the top of the long johns to kill all the sandflies trapped beneath. The stinging and itching gradually subsides. Calm is eventually restored.
Thankfully there are not many wet days. When there is, I lay in bed and read. For as long as I can. Which isn’t long. And nap if I can. These are the boring days.
My Archway Cafe. A large rock, accessible on any tide, with a comfy patch of grass on top and the best view in the Bay. And generally fewer sandflies. This becomes my favourite spot to enjoy a coffee, or tea; with an Em’s cookie. Or a piece of chocolate. There is no better place in the world to be!
15th Feb – Forecast SW 10kt. Time to launch. At last! I’ve prepared the evening prior, and launch before 0800. Having said my farewells to a place I will remember fondly. And likely never return. I have marked my camp spot with 14 paua shells hung from a tree. One for each member of the family. So far. Me, Shaz, Daniel, Alex, Kiwi, Ben, Kirstie, Ava, Emily, Vinnie, Sarah, Katie, Scott and Theo!!
Then I’m back on the beach at 0830! I exited the Bay and rounded the point. There was no wind but the sea conditions were messy. Very messy. I muscled further out wide, to deeper water, but they don’t improve. I spend more time staying upright than moving forward. I turned back. Gutted; but I know it’s the right decision.
I resolve to try again later in the day. I won’t unpack Secala until I give it another go. Have another look. The sea conditions can change around here remarkably quickly. Either way. For better or worse. After lunch I launch again. Having said my farewells. Again. Not as bullish of success this time. I don’t send my usual inReach message upon launching. I will send it if I actually commit to the paddle towards Puysegur. Alas; same conditions …..same result. Be safe ……. be patient. Bottom line.
Dejected I return to my same spot and set up camp. With a few improvements.
16th Feb – Forecast SE 30kts. I eventually rise with the sounds of a storm brewing. I have felt it through the night. And no wonder. The storm is howling directly into the Bay. I feel the drop in temperature as soon as I throw the sleeping bag off. It is sunny though. The first time I have seen the sun so early in the day. I can observe the madness of the sea conditions from my sanctuary. The very strong SE is beating up the SW swell. The sea is raging. It’s the worst I’ve seen the Bay even though it’s protected by Islets and reefs. There will be no cod caught today but on the upside, the sandflies will be scarce. And there are long periods of full sun between the fast moving cloud fronts. It’s actually pleasant sitting in the sun at the top of the beach. My tent and tarp are perfectly protected 10 meters inside the bush. I start, however, to reassess my chances of staying here too much longer. My food supplies are OK for now, but if I miss another seemingly good weather window, the supplies could be getting too lean. The weather windows are usually several days apart.
I fall back into my routines. Water from east of the arch. Paua at the isthmus. There is a tree at the southern end of the beach that always has a wood pigeon in it. I see one on the way over to get paua and three on the way back. In the same tree. I observed a humorous thing with a pigeon the other day. One of them was flying directly out of the Bay while gaining height. It kept heading out towards the Southern Ocean for a curious length of time. As far as I know, these are not migratory birds. Then eventually it took a long sweeping U turn and headed back towards land. Still gaining height. It seems the big bugger needed an extra long runway to get its big undercarriage over the cliffs behind the beach. Funny!
After lunch the sea is still angry outside. It’s 35kts+ straight into the Bay. The reef breaks are being whipped up big time. But the wind is relatively light on the beach. Being hard up under the cliffs probably accounts for that. There is a large flock of Sooties working inside the lee of the Islets. I have read that these amazing birds can dive over 60 meters under water.
For dinner I fry up a couple of paua in garlic and then stir in some of Ben’s rice. Looking forward to my only meal of the day. While swapping the pan from hand to hand with a pot gripper, I dropped the pan. The pan inverts spilling all the paua and rice over the ground. Bugger! Most of it is on grass though. Wasting food is not an option. I get a little feral and eat my dinner off the ground.
The forecast for tomorrow is very marginal. But reliable forecasts are elusive around here. Have advised Shaz that if I don’t get out of here in the next weather window; I will need to consider getting out somehow. To get more food supplies.
Let’s see what tomorrow brings.