8. West Coast (North) – Okarito to Kohaihai Bluff

This next phase of our journey north along the West coast will be accentuated by river entries at the Grey, Fox, Buller and Little Wanganui; AND the spine chilling surf of the Karamea Bight. The highlight though, will be the influences of one Paul Caffyn.


Thursday 29 February, 2024 Okarito to Waitaha River

It took a couple of days for the swell conditions to eventually subside off Okarito. Plenty of time to observe. And gauge the tidal influence on the outer break.

The Okarito River mouth looking north
Marginal conditions in the launch area – south of the Okarito River
Secala parked up by the tidal lagoon

It was going to be low tide for launch. Todays swell forecast is 1.4m. Otherwise conditions were calm. In fact there was quite a thick fog giving only 50m (max) visibility in all directions.

Once again, the launch turned out easy enough through the shore dump. Easier than it should have been.

After the sprint out the back of the surf zone, I stopped to send the usual inReach message. Only then did I realise I had paddled into the middle of a “pea soup”. There was no visible shoreline. Or horizon. My only earthly reference was the sound of the surf somewhere behind a foggy cloak. And the filtered orb of the rising sun. An eerie feeling.

The trusty magnetic compass is permanently attached to the foredeck. For exactly these circumstances. I set Secala on the NE heading; with an added increment to the west. For comfort. My course confirmed by the sound of the surf, and the rising sun; now on the ‘right’ side of the bow.

After an hour of paddling blind, the fog slowly dissipates. And a light NE ruffled the surface. Just in time to observe a good amount of shoaling between Waitahi Bluff and Abut Head. My compass course had been perfect. Keeping me comfortably behind the surf zone. With visibility returning, I edge closer to shore.

As Abut Head approach the NE increased to a pesky 10-12kts. We glided easily over these conditions until the headland was abeam. Where the winds escalated further. As they do. When compressed. The subtle increase to 15kts has a significant impact on paddle comfort and progress. Secala is now ploughing through the chop rather than riding over it.

I increased the tempo rounding Abut Head. The body was warming up now. And feeling strong. The morning aches had faded. Just as well. This was shaping up to be a longer day than expected.

Once around Abut Head, I searched the conditions across the bight towards Wanganui Bluff. The next significant landmark. I would normally take the 15km point to point route. But the sea conditions weren’t going to be any easier out wide. White caps looked more numerous.

I decided to hug the shoreline around Abut Head. Put the chop further round the port bow. Sacrifice the direct route for better progress. And the comfort of the beach.

The grind continued for the next 3 hours. Until past Wanganui Bluff. A few Hectors dolphins made a welcome distraction along the way.

Conditions eased back as Greens Beach approached. Enough to pull out the phone and check for cell coverage. One bar reception. I dialled and to my surprise Shaz answered. In these parts it’s lucky if you both have cell reception simultaneously. We only managed to talk for about a minute before one of us lost signal. She said that she could not come down the Greens Beach access road, as the locals had said that only 4WD vehicles could use it. I suggested that I could still land and walk out to meet her. Like at Whakapohai …….. then we lost signal.

I studied the map. My other option was to continue to the next road access. At Waitaha River. Only another hour or so paddle up the beach. We hadn’t discussed this option though. I quickly tapped out an inReach message to Shaz. And hoped she would find reception soon.

A cruisey 7.5 hour paddle day had now ticked over 9 hours. But the conditions were back to ideal now. Another hour or so tacked onto a 9 hour day in these conditions; would be a breeze.

Landed on the north side of Waitaha River

Everything worked out well. Shaz had got my message. And was there waving her flag on the northern side of the Waitaha River mouth. An easy landing. And a convenient freedom camping area at the top of the beach.

Bold Head to the north of Waitaha River
Parking Secala for the night

Behind the scenes Shaz had quite a story to tell. Not only with communication issues; but falling into quicksand no less. And seeking out some comfort and advice from Red Paterson.


Shaz. (Thursday 29 Feb)

Brent was up early and on the water by 6.56am heading for Green Beach just north of Harihari. I spent most of the morning at Okarito camp before heading to Harihari. Stopping for a coffee and asking the locals about the road to Green Beach. Is it accessible and ok for a camper van to drive on? Young guy said ‘yeah no problem, you’ll be right’; another lady at the counter said different! Ok now what, so asked someone else and they said “no, don’t do it unless you have a 4X drive van”. Well no I don’t. I needed to contact Brent as he is headed for Green beach, and was going to walk up at far as the fork in the road to meet me but problem is I won’t be there! This lady told me that I could go down Wanganui Flat road and drive right to the end and reach him on the VHF. So off I go got to the end of the road and walked down to the beach. I tried ringing and texting also! Anyway I’m walking along following someone else’s foot print when suddenly I was in very soft sand up to the top of my thigh,; and fell forward. My phone and VHF went into the wet sand. Don’t panic 😱 I kept telling myself. You have to get out of this. I knew those survival programmes on tv would come in handy. Get one leg out at a time, easy does it. Nice and slow and out came my leg then the next one. Even manage to retrieve my shoe 😊!

Got back to the camper, cleaned myself up a bit and set off back to Harihari. I didn’t want to worry anyone at home so text Lynn Patterson (she’s the lady that has also circumnavigated NZ) and asked about how to best get hold of him. She rang me back and we had a talk and I felt much better after that. All I could do was keep on trying to ring him or text; so I did. He eventually rang me back and he decided to go on further to Waitaha River. 

Brent was saying when he left this morning it was foggy, however he managed to get straight out but couldn’t see where he was going for a bit. It was hard work today as he was in a head wind most of the way. Once again today he had dolphins swimming along side of him. Today he paddled for 10.5 hours, a distance of 52.4km. We are able to freedom camp here by the river which is nice, along with a few others. 


Friday 01 March, 2024 Waitaha River to Hokitika

I was approaching Paul’s Caffyns “territorial harbour limits”. It was time to escalate the TR’s (Trip Reporting). Paul lives at 12 Mile. Just north of Greymouth. Just two paddle days away. We were about to meet for the first time.

Just before we set off from New Plymouth towards Milford Sound, Paul happened to be in Hokitika and had done a reccie for the best landing spot:

“My suggested back marker for you is the domed top of the catholic church, topped with a cross. On the beach, it is also the northern end of a big granite rip rap seawall extending north from the river mouth; and the start of just sand beach. That may be hard to see from seawards but the cross should be obvious”.

The preferred paddle options today were Hokitika (37km) or Greymouth (72km). A 6.5 hour paddle or 12.5 hours. I took the easier option. Even though there was a favourable SW forecast. I wasn’t on this trip to challenge any personal records. (My personal daily distance record stands at 74km – Glinks Gully to Waimamaku River; Kaipara Coast).

We would be in Hokitika for a few days. A storm was brewing offshore.

The morning revealed an easy dumping shore break with the swell at only 1m. An easy start to what should be an easy day. A camp at the beach is always so much more convenient. An easy surf. A gentle SW in the forecast. And a short 6 hour paddle. Happy days!

View north (towards Ross) after rounding Bold Head

On the water and around the distinctive Bold Head. The landscape opens up all the way to Hokitika with featureless lowlands. Tucked behind a continuous west coast beach. A gentle 8-10kt SW breeze developed. Nice to feel the wind behind the left shoulder. The first wind assist so far this trip. It had the subtle effect of nudging me closer to shore though. And closer to the outer surf break. Occasionally had to make a radical turn seaward as the sets of breakers extend further offshore. Especially around Mikonui and Totara River mouths. There were some thunderously heavy shore breaks between Ross and Ruatapu. Even in these low swell conditions.

I aimed for the outer extent of the Hokitika River bar. Multiple lines of breakers that would be impossible to negotiate without some good local knowledge.

For a change though, I was arriving in familiar territory. We had stayed in Hokitika before. I knew some of the landmarks north of the river. And I knew where the best landing was. And Paul’s advise had backed that up.

I had made good time in the following conditions. With an average 7.0km/h. The camper was an easy pick up at the end of the rip rap seawall. Shaz was in her conspicuous red top and yellow flag.

There was a reasonable shore break. A left hander that wrapped around the end of the rip rap. I observed the landing zone for a while. Shaz was waving her flag in exactly the right spot. Where the seawall gave way to the beach. The shore break would push me further north along the beach.

I timed my run well. Picked up the break for a fast ride in; past a couple of shaka waving surfers.

A storm was brewing off the coast. With 6m swells predicted. A few days of “lock down” is always to be expected on the West Coast. Just like the North Island West Coast …… you can only expect a 50% paddle day average on this coast.


Shaz. (Friday 1 March)

Today Brent is heading for Hokitika beach. On the way there I’ll do my usual chores in Ross. Been there before. First thing to do in Hokitika is fill the gas bottle, as a lot of places do not refill gas bottles only do swaps!

Next off to the wool shop to get some knitting supplies for the grandkids, then Supermarket for top up of food! Time for a coffee before going to the beach to meet Brent. I went to Thatcher & Small and as I went to pay for a coffee and a lemon & coconut muffin, the lady said that’s $5.20. She told me that the coffee has been paid forward by SPS Plumbing Services; score 😊👏!

I see Brent is getting close now so head off to the beach, sure enough here he comes! His time was 5 hours 24 minutes and a distance of 38.1km.

Tonight we are going to stay at a KiwiCamp, with our new KiwiCash card. I got it from the Information Centre in NP, you rock on up to one of these places with you card and swipe $20 to  stay the night. If you don’t want to stay, don’t take you vehicle in; but you can use the facilities with your card for Shower $3, washing machine $5, dryer $5, wash the dishes 20c for 2 minutes of hot water, not sure how much power was as we didn’t use it. So anyone can use it so long as they have a card, great for young travellers who are freedom camping. Great location easy 4 minute walk into town, we had dinner at a Thai restaurant really nice food too! Tomorrow we will go to NZMCA Park for a couple of nights as the weather is turning bad.


Thursday 7 March, 2024 Hokitika to Greymouth

While waiting out the storm in Hokitika, I caught up with Paul by email and we discussed landing options around Greymouth. My intentions were to head for a beach landing at Rapahoe. Where I could tuck in behind Elizabeth Point if the surf was up; and where there was a beachfront camping ground.

Paul suggested that the Grey River or Cobden Beach (just around the north mole) were also options. The Greymouth options were only a 6 hour paddle; whereas Rapahoe was a further 1.5 hours north.

An early start today. Keen to get going after a 5 days sojourn in Hokitika.

The high tide and moderate surf didn’t leave much beach to launch off. And the surf break was messy with a strong tow northwards. The same that I had experienced on arrival. Once through the shore break though, the exit should be fine.

Again, with a bit of luck, I managed to get out well enough. Although I did get hit in the chest by a green wall of water, jolting my back and neck back as far as they could go. Happy to be out and on the move again.

Hokitika launch

The forecast suggested a light following breeze. Instead I got the opposite. Northerly headwinds the whole day. In the 10-15kt range. Just strong enough to make it a steady grind. The south flowing ebb tide for most of the day didn’t help either.

Paul Caffyn with Shaz gauging progress

By the time I got within sight of the Grey entrance I was approaching 8 hours on the water. Two hours longer than predicted. I was ready to call it a day. I called Shaz on the VHF when about an hour off the Grey River moles. Shaz acknowledged and the next thing I heard was Paul offering advise on entering the Grey. “You can enter the river close in to the south mole. Then hug the mole up river for 200m before crossing to the wave trap”. What a moment. The great legend of kayaking offering advice on how to enter his home port. Not likely to be advice that I ignore. It was low tide and I had no idea what conditions to expect. I have seen some savage video footage of what the Grey bar can look like; on a bad day. Clearly this was not one of those. But the Grey is a big river with a decent flow. I hoped Paul hadn’t over estimated my strength.

Approaching the Grey River South Mole

I approached the South Mole with some anticipation. To my relief it actually looked fine. Once through the initial surge at the entrance, it was a straight shoot up river. As close to the mole as I could.

Paul and Shaz were observing from the end of the North Mole. Once I cleared the entrance they raced back to the wave trap. I hugged the inside of the mole and inched against the flow. Within 50m or so of the entrance; the going got easier. I continued up river until I heard Paul on the VHF ushering me across to the wave trap. 

With his camera poised; I rode a wave straight onto the beach in front of him. And as the wave tumbled ashore behind me, I braced into it and nearly took Paul’s legs out from under him. Full credit to his agility. 

Arriving at Grey River
Arriving at the Grey River wave trap
Greeted by Paul at the Grey River wave trap
Paul Caffyn

Awesome moments to have Paul there to guide me on to the beach. Unbelievable. Paul invited us back to 12 Mile for a memorable evening of discussions, stories, maps and recommendations. 

12 Mile. View north towards Punakaiki (distance)
12 Mile

Shaz. (Thursday 7 March)

Sorry for the late update, it’s been a busy few days. Up early so Brent can get on the water this morning, and took a video that I have sent you all. So nice to be out of Hokitika and on the road again. 

When I left Hokitika I headed for Kumara beach to wait for Brent to come by and make contact on the VHF and sight him out at sea. While I was there Paul Caffyn rang me! Paul Caffyn circumnavigated NZ back in the late 70’s, kayaked around many countries also.  He has written several books of which Brent has read, and his passion for kayaking grew. Paul lives at 12 Mile Creek and wanted to be at Rapahoe when Brent came in. I told him that he wasn’t going to make it as it was hard work out there today. He asked where I was and came and met me there. When we eventually made contact with Brent.

Paul advised Brent where to come in at the river mouth, hugging the seawall on his left hand side and then come across to the first wave trap up the river. It was a little hairy but he made it!

It was so nice to see them meet for the first time. It was great for Brent to meet Paul like that, Paul made such a fuss of him and was taking photos also. He explained that he wanted to write and article for the Greymouth Star and also the Christchurch press!

He invited us back to his place for a meal and chat about his experiences/travels. He’s a very incredible man and had the most interesting life. Google him … it’s very interesting reading. We were able to stay at the end of the lane where he lives overlooking the Tasman sea.

Brent paddled 36.8km in 8 hours 8 minutes; a long hard days work as the chop was against him all day.

Paul’s fascinating library

Friday 8 March, 2024 Greymouth to Woodpecker Bay (Fox River)

A combination of factors contributed to a later start today.

We needed to travel back to the Grey River from 12 Mile. Where we had stayed the night outside Paul’s place. And we didn’t want to do that too early and risk waking up the friendly neighbours. So we waited for daylight. And none of the usual paddle prep had been done last night.

In my favour though, was a high tide time of 1000hrs. So in theory at least, conditions across the river bar should be at their best.

We drove down to the Cobden Tip (north mole) to look at the river entrance and bar. Apart from the usual surge and messiness where rivers meet the sea; it all looked good enough to me.

Finally set up and launched at the wave trap by 0900. There were good size dumping waves at the wave trap. But once again managed to time it perfectly off the beach and into the river flow.

Once out of the river, the confused surface lingered for an hour until clear of the limestone cliffs at Elizabeth Point. 

Shaz was heading back north to be with Paul at 12 Mile. To see me paddle past. I was really looking forward to paddling past 12 Mile to offer a symbolic paddle wave and nod to acknowledge my inspiration into the sea kayaking world. A magic moment talking with Paul over the VHF as I passed by.

The coastline Bluffs continued past 12 Mile to 17 Mile where they eventually gave way to the 15km long Pakiroa Beach. These long beaches can be mundane visually if staying out wide. But do offer a chance to relax mentally; as the sea state becomes much more predictable. A good paddle rhythm assisted by a light following breeze. Secala was making good speed. Rare moments to enjoy. 

Barrytown was the only significant landmark along Pakiroa beach, that continues to the aptly named Razorback Point.

As Razorback Point approached the shoaling amplified the swell sets to alarming levels. Time to snap out of the malaise. Antennars are up. Eyes wide and seaward now. Adjusted course several times to meet the swell sets as they approached. Some of them breaking only 10 meters behind me.

I maintained a good distance offshore past Punakaiki and Perpendicular Point. Kaipakati Point and Seal Island were only an hours paddle ahead. Seal Island projects north from the Point offering good lee shore protection into Woodpecker Bay.

This bay is regarded as one of the best landing “offerings” on the West Coast between Greymouth and Westport.

As Kaipakati Point approached, the wind picked up; with bounce back and elevated swell. The sea state became very messy the closer I got. The rounding of Seal Island looked ominous. It was another low tide arrival. And these were spring tides. Breakers and rocky outcrops were everywhere across Woodpecker Bay. In the direction of the Fox River. 

I sat outside the reef break off Seal Island to size up my approach and landing options.

My preference was to get as close to Fox River as I could. Even paddle up the river, if possible. Straight up to our camp site. Although, on this tide, any kind of river bar would be shallow. 

From my position, the shoreline was a mass of rocky outcrops. Fox River mouth was completely obscured. And there were lines of breakers to negotiate if I wanted a closer look. It was one of those places where you needed someone ashore to guide you through the breakers and rocks. Especially for a first timer.

Paul’s recommendation was to tuck in hard behind Seal Island where the best protected landing would be found.

I timed my run between Seal Island and its reef break, into much quieter water. Paul was right. The closer in behind Seal Island, the better. But this was a long way (1km) from the Fox River. Where Shaz would be parked at the DOC site with the camper.

I opted for a landing somewhere in the middle. It wasn’t the easiest landing spot but was much closer to the river. And, most importantly, one that I could see and gauge for myself.

I lined up an approach towards a very narrow strip of sand between some rocky outcrops. It was a shallow sloping beach; with a long tumbling shore break. I aimed for the middle of the tiny stretch of sand. The key was to avoid the rocks. As I got closer to the beach, numerous submerged rocks became apparent. These could definitely be niggly. My focus diverted to rock avoidance. And in the blink of an eye the shore break caught me off-guard and flipped me in thigh deep water. Fortunately missing rocks on the way over. The first capsize this trip. And quite unnecessary. Very annoying.

Landing through the rocks at Woodpecker Bay. Seal Island behind.
Rocky shoreline at low tide
Dragging Secala along the beach towards Fox River

I pulled Secala well up the beach and set off to find Shaz. She was waiting on the other side of the Fox River a couple of hundred meters away.

I returned and dragged Secala to the river and paddled up to the campsite. 

Crossing the Fox River to where Shaz was waiting
Paddling up the Fox River; under the derelict rail bridge
Greeted by Paul at Fox River
Paul’s support is inspirational
Shaz knitting tangle
Fox River camp

Ironically, after all this; I would find out later from Paul that from the best landing spots in Woodpecker Bay (behind Seal Island); there are a couple of short (steep) tracks that lead up to the main road. And I could have landed and left Secala just above the beach and walked a kilometre down the road to the camp. Pauls local knowledge would soon come in very useful for the Woodpecker Bay exit.


Shaz (Friday 8 March)

We were up early and drove back to Greymouth so Brent could launch. It was a bit hair raising watching him get out of the river mouth; big waves one after the other! Not sure how he does it, but made it look easy; he has great control and patience. He is heading for Seal Island today, he was hoping for better conditions today after yesterday! 

I messaged Paul and said that his launch when well and that he was on his way. Paul asked me to stop in for a cup of tea on the way past as he wanted to get some of my photos that he could put on his computer for his record of Brent. I ended up being there for nearly 2 hours! 

The reporter from the Press rang me just before getting to his place, asked me a few questions but really wanted to talk to Brent and asked if he would contact her later.

I think the angle of the story is the fact that Brent is 65 years old and doing this! I think that is what amazes Paul the most is his age! 

Paul said that he would come and see Brent come in at Seal Island and get some more photos. 

Brent made it in super quick time today unlike yesterday. But didn’t land at Seal Island but closer to Fox River, but it was so rough that he came ashore where even I couldn’t see him. After a while I saw him pulling his kayak along the beach towards me on the other side of the river. He said that he would paddle up the river to the Fox River Freedom Camp where we were staying the night. 

As I was about to leave for the camp Paul pulled up, so he followed me to the camp ground. 

Paul and Brent talked for ages, then he had to leave as he was singing at the Pancake Cafe in Punakaiki tonight. He said that the article will be in the Greymouth Star Saturday morning. 

Greymouth to Fox River 50.2 km 7 hours and 2 minutes


Saturday 9 March, 2024 Woodpecker Bay (Fox River)

Today was a funny old day.

Ideally my next destination would be Westport. A 7.5 hour paddle from here. But Cape Foulwind was in the way; and the afternoon forecast was for strong SW winds. I had heard many stories of this Cape. Its reputation was well established. With me, at least. I was not going to round this Cape in less than ideal conditions.

To make use of the good morning weather, I decided to target Nile River instead; which was only 3 hours along the coast. With a short day planned there was no rush to launch. And the high tide was at about 1030 hours.

Paddle down the Fox River at high tide
The Fox River mouth at high tide

At the Fox River mouth were the usual series of breakers to overcome over the bar. Got through the first couple before being up-ended on the third. And my skirt didn’t survive the impact.

I wasn’t all that motivated to give it another go. There was really not enough to be gained by getting to Nile River. It was only going to shorten the paddle to Westport. And the surf conditions were unlikely to be any better there anyway.

Tomorrow’s forecast was good though. For the rounding of Cape Foulwind. Needing to maximise my chances of getting out of Woodpecker Bay; I took Paul’s advice and relocated Secala. Near where I had landed; but further back in the lee of Seal Island.

Top of the bush track leading to the beach

We drove Secala about a kilometre back along the road to a bush track that Paul had described in detail. The track was so steep that I used some rope to tie off to trees and fence posts; and gradually lowered Secala down the track. A novel method of getting to a launch site.

Steep overgrown track
The remains of an old boat ramp (left)
The rocky shoreline at mid tide
The bottom of the track
The site of an old ramp.

The launch would definitely be easier from here. A couple more shuttles up and down the track with gear; and we were set to go tomorrow.

The walk back down the road to the Fox River camp offers great views of Woodpecker Bay. I checked the Bay out at various states of tide. Spring tides were still with us. The breakers across the bay where still daunting; even at high tide. At low tide, there were multiple sets of large rolling breakers stretched right across the bay starting at the northern tip of Seal Island.

Seal Island at high tide
A series of breakers rumbled across Woodpecker Bay

I suggested to Paul that I would most likely have to wait till mid-tide, at least, for the power in the breakers to diminish sufficiently to attempt a break-out. And hopefully a slightly improved swell forecast tomorrow will help.

In the meantime, Paul had arranged for his long time mate, and kayaking legend, Conrad Edwards, to drop into meet us at Fox River while on his way from Nelson to 12 Mile (with a kayak on his roof). Had a beer and chat with Conrad before he continued his trip to Paul’s place.

That evening, Paul and Conrad had “hatched a cunning plan” between them. They would follow me up the coast and spot me off Constant Bay. Then from Westport, Conrad would launch out of the Buller and meet me somewhere near Cape Foulwind. 

All hinged on a successful break-out tomorrow.


Shaz. (Saturday 9 March)

Brent was up later today as the weather conditions were marginal, he went and had a look then decided to have a go! He paddled up the river and I walked quickly across the road to see him go out. He was sitting in the river watching and waiting! I had my phone and started to video when he started to paddle out it look awful to me, scary in fact! But off he went watching and reading the waves, then move forward only to come back, then forward up and over the waves! However they came closer together and bigger and then he got smashed and was turned upside down in the water! He came up beside the kayak, but the waves just kept on coming it was like watching him in a washing machine! He was having trouble getting out of that spot! He eventually made it ashore and he was ok thank goodness. He said that the current of the river and sea was so strong it was hard to get out of it! The German lady standing next to me panicked 🫨 yelling “the kayak is upside down, where is he, where is he”. I said that he’s ok I can see his helmet with his GoPro on top, she relaxed then 😂!

He will try again later; see how it goes! Nope it didn’t happen, conditions were really bad! He said that he would later load the kayak on the van and drive back up the road near Seal Island and take the kayak down to the beach through this steep goat like track with ropes for support 🤷‍♀️! Only Brent, I’d would have waited another day! Anyway Paul messaged Brent to say his friend and kayak co-paddler Conrad Edward’s (they paddled together in Greenland and several other overseas expeditions) would like to come in and meet him as he was on his way to Paul’s place

Conrad arrived with his kayak on top of his vehicle. Conrad is another interesting person, he is off to British Columbia in June to do solo kayak adventure there! After a beer and interesting chat he left. We went up the road to drop off the kayak. While he was up there we had good coverage for phone calls so he rang back the reporter and had a chat. This article will appear in the Press on Monday. 


Sunday 10 March, 2024 Woodpecker Bay (Fox River) to Westport (Buller River)

I strode up the road at 0700 to check the conditions in the Bay. The tide was two hours into flood. The bay looked good enough to launch. Much better than yesterday at the same state of tide.

I set off down the steep track to check on Secala. All was well. But I decided to move Secala a further 50m along the beach. Where there were fewer rocks to negotiate during launch. Which also happened to be at the bottom of another beach access track.

Secala relocated just before launch

I emailed Paul my intentions. I would launch soonest. Which would be about 0830-0900 hours. By the time I had made a return trip to camp.

The launch was easy through a small shore break. I aimed for the northern tip of Seal Island where there was a good enough gap to squeeze behind the breakers.

I waited until safely out past Seal Island before sending the inReach departure message. This would be Paul’s cue to hatch his “cunning plan”.

The cliffy coastline from Woodpecker Bay until past Charleston gave plenty of swell bounce-back. Scattered rain hugged the foothills occasionally spilling over the shoreline. And the usual light off-shore breeze prevailed.

Approaching the planned rendezvous point at Charleston I made several calls on the VHF to no avail. (Turns out Shazas VHF wasn’t charged!) Unknown to me; Paul was waving from the clifftop lookout and yelling “cuuwee’s” at the top of his voice. I did actually hear the “cuuwee’s” on the water but hadn’t linked them to Paul. All made perfect sense later, and no surprise when I learned that it was Paul.

The sea state smoothed out when I cleared the Charleston cliffs. I cut a direct track along Nine Mile Beach towards Cape Foulwind. The paddling was pleasant with Hectors dolphins occasionally keeping me company.

As I closed in on Tauranga Bay, the swell amplitude ramped up significantly over the shoaling. Constantly peeking over the left shoulder now at the on-coming sets. Cape Foulwind came into view as I rounded Wall Island at the north end of Tauranga Bay. It’s prominence matched it’s reputation.

Charts show a good deal of foul ground extending north from the Cape to Black Reef and the Three Steeples. The foul also extended eastward 2-3km to Kawau Point and the offshore Gibson Reef.

Paul’s advice was to hug the Cape. I did; and gradually over the next 30 minutes gradually made the radical 90 degree course adjustment from North to East; towards Westport.

I am on the lookout for Conrad now. The swell height through the gap between the Cape and Black Reef is significant. Numerous random areas of breakers are revealed as each set rolls through. Surprisingly and thankfully there is no wind off the Cape. I keep scanning for Conrad. There is only a few seconds at the crest of each wave to cast a view ahead. And Conrad needs to be on a crest simultaneously. A bit of a lottery. Within those same few seconds I’m also trying to weave a pathway through the shoals.

Then…….. 200 meters or so on my port side, I spot a kayak. Momentarily. It has to be Conrad. He appears to be sitting in the lee of Black Reef. I try calling him on VHF Ch 6. As discussed. No reply. Line of sight could be the issue. I refocused on getting through the shoals and hopefully flatter conditions beyond. Where visual or VHF contact with Conrad would likely be easier.

The shoaling and associated breakers intensify as I try to run between Kawau Point and Gibson Reef. The line of breakers from the Point extend out to me from the shore, while Gibson Reef is breaking on my left. I decide to make a radical turn to port to skirt around the outside of Gibson Reef and deeper water. This is also the general direction that I last saw Conrad.

Outside Gibson Reef, the seas flatten out considerably. I can make out the Buller River entrance on my easterly course.

I spot Conrad again maybe kilometre away and directly ahead of me. He appears to be heading back to the Buller River. I know he has a to get back on the road and be in Nelson before dark. I try to contact him again on VHF. No reply. Although the amplitude of the swell sets have moderated; I don’t see Conrad on the water again.

I make contact with Shaz to see if she’s seen or heard from Conrad yet. She hasn’t. He was far enough in front of me when I last saw him; that I figured he should have arrived by now. I’m concerned. And strongly considered calling the emergency services. Survival time in these waters would not be long.

As I get closer to the breakwaters at the Buller River entrance I see a continuous line of breakers in front of me. I make contact with Shaz on VHF. Then Paul comes on and explains that the river flow turns easterly when it exits the north south orientated breakwaters. “Paddle east to round the end of the breakers; and cut back in”

It’s close to low tide now. And still a spring tide. I keep paddling east, past the river entrance, until I reach the end of the breakers that demarcate the shoaling northern side of the east flowing river.

I make a 180 degree turn back into the river flow as instructed. There are lines of breakers either side and ahead of me now. The deeper river flow is relatively smooth.

My intentions are to keep paddling back towards the river entrance; between the lines of breakers, and size up a landing on the beach, closer to the breakwater.

I tell Shaz what I’m thinking. She says that the river entrance itself is OK and not to land on the beach. This contradicts what I can see. Which are breakers all around the entrance. But I know she is in the best position to assess the conditions. I take her word for it. If Shaz says it’s OK; it must be like a lake.

Entering the Buller River

By the time I get to the entrance Paul and Conrad have joined Shaz on the east breakwater. I enter the Buller hugging the breakwater and paddle hard against the river flow until I reach the wave trap about a kilometre up river. Meanwhile Paul and Shaz have raced back down the breakwater to meet me as I land. Paul is camera ready. And he has the beers ready. Legend. I spot Conrad driving down the breakwater and makes haste to Nelson before dusk. (His headlights are on the blink)

Paul pulls out the obligatory beers and we discuss an eventful day. The exit from Woodpecker Bay; VHF fail at Charleston; Shaz taking a tumble on the walking track; the cuuwee shouts by Paul from the clifftops; the rounding of Cape Foulwind; failing to meet up with Conrad; Conrads swim at the Buller River bar.

Paul with the beers

Conrad had an eventful day too. Complete with a re-enter and roll at the Buller River bar.

Paul leaned in with a twinkle in his eyes and whispers; “Conrad came out of his kayak Brent. That’s going to cost him a lot of beers”.

It’s been an amazing day. And it’s time to farewell Paul at the Buller River wave trap. A truly amazing man.

Behind the scenes Paul is kindly profiling our trip to the press with stories and photos.

The Press; Saturday March 16

Shaz and I finished packing up and headed north 48km to Mikohinui (Gentle Annie Seaside Camp) for a couple of nights while the weather abated. Mikohinui would be my next paddle destination. And a chance now to have a good look at the landing conditions ahead of the paddle. Always worthwhile if the opportunity arises.


Shaz. (Sunday 10 March)

Brent had a later start today, he first went for a walk around 7am to check out the launching spot up the road where he left the kayak. He messaged me at 8.11am saying ‘It’s good to go’, so he came back and got his gear on and then set off back up the road. I finished my breakfast and shot across the road to see him go by! I messaged Paul to see that he got his inReach message from Brent. He said they were heading to Westport around 10am. Once I saw Brent go by I knew he was safely off, unlike yesterday!

My time now, I’ll go and check out the Fox River Market which was right next to the freedom camping spot. Great market, small but lovely and really nice people there. The guy making coffees was a character, chatting away to everyone and his wife telling him to stop talking and hurry up as the long queue was growing 😂. I got my coffee and headed for Charleston. I was in the car park getting ready to go for a walk along the walkway to the cliff edge at Constant Bay. Walked around the corner and there was Paul Caffyn, didn’t realise he was going to be there too! Oh well we walked together (it was about a 20 minute walk) just chatting away when I lost my footing a slipped, ending up on my butt in a small gorse bush, ouch 😩 😂 just as well I have plenty of padding! Paul helped me up, I was so embarrassed it must have looked a sight! Walked out of bush to this beautiful view of the Tasman Sea and there was Brent just down in front of us. I called him on the VHF but he didn’t answer, he must have it turned off. Paul walked to the edge of the cliff to get some photos of him, waved his bright yellow hat and yelled out to him! He was telling me that this is where they go rock climbing on these cliff faces and the caves below! Is there anything this man doesn’t do, amazing! As Paul came back from the edge Conrad turned up, then Brent called on the VHF. I went to answer him and the VHF died, bugger! Just as we were about to walk back to the car he rang on the cellphone as he saw someone on the cliff top waving!

They drove off to Westport as Conrad was going to kayak out and meet Brent; then paddle in together. I had to get diesel, my usual chores and go to Mitre 10 for a couple of things. Not today though as Westport shops are shut! I went to a cafe for some lunch, along with everyone else as there were only a couple of cafes open 😂. 

I went off to NZMCA park and reserved as spot before going to the Buller River mouth. Conrad rang me and asked me where Brent was roughly, I told him he was at Tauranga Bay. Conrad was at Cape Foulwind, he said that he needed to come back as he had to get back to Nelson before dark

At the river mouth I caught up with Paul and asked if Conrad got back ok and he said that he wasn’t back yet. I would have thought that he would have been well back by now, so we started looking for him! Brent called on his VHF as asked if we had seen Conrad and we said that we hadn’t; and just then I saw him with the binoculars thank goodness! We had no way of contacting Conrad to say which was the best way to approach the Buller River as it was pretty rough. He came in and got rolled by a wave and was upside down for what seemed ages, then he popped up.

Conrad returning to the Buller

He eventually managed to upright his kayak and got back in. By this time he drifted a little way past the river mouth and was able to come in on a better angle. Paul went off the see that he was ok, but talked to Brent and told him the best way to come in. Brent went way past the river mouth and then turned and slowly came in like a pro with no problems.

Brent paddled 47.8 km, in 8 hours 10 minutes, he was slogging hard into head wind all day he said.


Tuesday 12 March, 2024 Westport (Buller River) to Mokihinui Beach

There was paddle procrastination today. The weather forecast was OK. The launch out of the Buller River should be fine. The only issue of concern were the predicted swell conditions. That were forecast to escalate significantly throughout the day to 3.0+ meters.

Eventually decided to launch. Not wanting to waste a good paddle day.

We drove 48km back to the Buller river from Mokihinui Gentle Annie campsite. A quick reccie at the end of the eastern breakwater showed the river bar was still OK. The swell hadn’t escalated too much yet!

At the wave trap, we were loaded and launched by 0925hrs. LW was 2.5 hours ago so there was a little more water over the bar compared to my arrival. Out the entrance and hard right turn east with the river flow.

The Karamea Bight extends further eastward from Westport before sweeping north. Once I cleared the river bar, my direct course towards Mokihinui would take me further offshore; before merging with the coastline again. At its furthest I would be 6km from shore.

The distant shoreline offered no directional guidance. There was rain obscuring the hilltops. I took a punt on a compass course and added an easterly increment to ensure I didn’t overshoot my destination. Hoping for a landfall near Hector.

It was mundane deep water paddling for the first few hours. As I transited the Karamea Bight. Sea conditions were light but on the nose. The NEly steadily escalated to 10-12kts. For the next 4 hours. Not enough for a nuisance sea chop.

As we slowly merged with the shoreline, clusters of houses suggested that I had hit the mark. Soon to be confirmed by the conspicuous red Ngakawau coal terminus.

When I got within 1km of the Hector shoreline the ocean swell really started to crank up. Alarmingly. I was 5 hours out of Westport now. We were an hour or so past high water. I was concerned enough to start counting the swell sets. Begin the familiarity process. There were 6 significant waves to the set. The 5th wave being the monster. The easy inattentive deep water paddling was now firmly tucked away. Eyes were seaward most of the time. Often; as a set rolled in, I had to paddle hard to meet the on-coming crests. Rising up the steep face and flop over the crest as it was about to break. 

Being so close to monster waves as they break has a fearsome audible sequence that is nerve jangling. At first there’s the loud crackling as the fully formed wave starts to lose structure. This transitions into an equally loud swishing as the wave succumbs to gravity. And finally the roar of defeat as the wave disintegrates into a boiling mass of dissipating energy.

To be caught up in one of these monsters would be less than ideal. And while still hundreds of meters offshore.

These sets continued to escalate for the next couple of hours. I was very close to my destination now. Just south of the Mokihinui river. My body was literally shaking at the prospect of being caught up in one of these monsters. The swell predictions were correct.

I made contact with Shaz via VHF. From her view the horizon looked the same. No clear pathway through the breakers. But the north side of the river looked marginally better. I agreed. My observations from our stay at the camp suggested the north side was better. Shaz lined me up. Then it was all down to me. I sat and waited for a couple of sets to roll through. To assess and maximise my window of opportunity. The window was small. The only control I had was when to commit through the huge outer break. After that it was just a case of dealing with whatever came my way. It was about mid ebb tide now. The outer break was not going to improve by procrastinating.

I pulled the trigger perfectly. Completely avoided the out break and had a fun ride on the intermediate breaks. Topping 28km/hr. Nice way to complete the day and mighty relieved to be safely ashore.

Arriving at Mokihinui Beach
Through the surf at Mokihinui
Enjoying that beer

Shaz. (Tuesday 12 March)

Packed up and gone from Mokihinui camp around 7.30am back to Westport. Drove down the Buller River breakwater so Brent could checked out the river mouth. Then back down to the wave trap where he came in. No Paul today, just us! I’ll miss his company and support that I’ve had over the last 3 days, such an interesting man. 

Brent launched at 9.23am from the river trap and headed off for the river mouth. He said conditions were ok but messy until you’re out of the river mouth. Then a light wind was against him for the next 4 hours. So the paddle overall took him 7.5hours rather than the 6.5 hours if conditions were good

I went to buy the Press, to see if the article was there but it wasn’t in again today! I headed off to find a spot where I could see Brent and make contact. I do this by following him on the inReach tracker! I could see he was off the coast by Birchfield, so I found a road (Cains Road) that went down to the beach. OMG, it was so rough the waves were rolling in one on top of the other. I couldn’t see him anywhere, he would have had to be way off shore as the breakers were way out! Tried the VHF; nothing. Tried the cellphone nothing! So I just kept on tracking him and drove through Granity and almost to Hector. I just sat there for about 1 hour; then finally saw him way way out, I’d just get the odd glimpse of him as the swell was so big he would disappear. At Hector they have a Dairy so got myself a ice cream and brought one for Brent and put in the freezer. Drove about 2km past there and pulled over to see if I could see him again. Sure enough there he was briefly before disappearing again, so I tried the VHF; nothing. So rang him on cellphone and he answered (yeah) he was fine, told me to go onto Gentle Annie and get set up as he needed me on the beach to guide him in. Booked in and set up camp. Looked at the tracker, still plenty of time before he’s due here.

I rugged up, got the binoculars, VHF, cellphone, yellow bag and a beer and set off for the beach. There is a picnic table on top of this little hill giving me enough of a view to see out wide! He called me on the VHF and asked where to go, I said that he needed to come further across from the river mouth. Didn’t matter where he went as it was awful and was most likely going to get trashed! Once he got to where I thought he should turn and make his way in it was all on, no turning back! I had to run along the beach as he was way past where I was, I couldn’t see him anywhere! Had my phone out ready to video him, but where was he! Then all of a sudden he came over this wave he looked like he was flying, I quickly pushed record! OMG, it was hair raising stuff watching him on shore, but it looked like he was having one hell of a ride! He managed to control the kayak the whole way no problem, not sure how he did it to be honest. 

Distance 39 km 7 hours & 28 minutes.


Thursday 14 March, 2024 Mokihinui Beach to Little Wanganui River

Another procrastinating day. There were different strategies running through my mind.

Normally I would launch from here for an 8 or 9hr paddle. Probably to Kohaihai Bluff. But getting off the beach at Mokihinui was a problem with the surf and tide. And Kohaihai Bluff was not a recommended destination choice; from all accounts.

The other option was to do a shorter 3hr run to Little Wanganui Bluff where the launch windows would hopefully be greater with a river exit and a good lee provided at Little Wanganui Head. A launch base here would provide a better opportunity to paddle right past Kohaihai Bluff; and its fearsome reputation.

The other factor at play was our plan to be in Christchurch by the 22nd March. Which meant my last paddle day would be 21st March. Only 7 days from now.

There are 4 solo paddle days from Kohaihai; around Farewell Spit to Separation Point. Three at a pinch. The chances of the weather and sea gods providing 5 good paddle days out of the next 7, were very very slim.

The other option was a two day solo paddle to Paturau River. The next road access point. The plan would be to paddle from Little Wanganui to Wekakura Point (9.0hr) or Seal Bay (11.0hr); then to Paturau (7.0hr or 5.0hr respectively). But Paturau River is a very long drive from Kohaihai for Shaz. And a longer drive out to Christchurch immediately after.

Physically, I was ready to launch! Mentally was another matter. The plan ahead was unclear. Ultimately the forecast over the next couple of days would dictate our progress. I decided to declutter the mind and just focus on today. Let’s get launched first; then worry about the destination.

Yesterday was a write-off due to both swell and wind. Today we just had the swell to worry about. 

Once off the beach and outside the breakers; the conditions looked perfect. LW was at 0800 today. And the outer line of breakers looked particularly menacing. 

I decided to wait for the flooding tide to hopefully take the heat out of them. I walked down to the beach every hour or so. Secala was on the beach ready to go. Noon arrived and we’re 4hrs into the flood tide. The outer breakers had mellowed but still packed a punch. Unfortunately the rising tide had reached the steeper section of the beach and caused a dump where there was none earlier. If I got the entry wrong it would likely hurt. But I had handled much worse shore dumps. I figured that the odds were in my favour.

Sizing up the surf

I set myself and Secala up within the dumper wash. As is often the case with dumpers; the wave wash up the beach hits you at an angle. It is often difficult to keep a kayak pointing straight out. Before I could blink, two successive waves spun Secala 180 degrees. I was now pointing up the beach!

I reset. A little further up the beach this time. The doubts crept back in. Full commitment was wavering. Then a larger wave came all the way up to meet me and I was suddenly afloat. I flicked the switch. And was all in now. We got sucked down the beach and through a smaller dumper. Thankfully. Then out and over the next one before it was fully formed.

The horizon looked ok. I took off at a 45 degree angle from the beach. The angle that I had figured would take me around the outer break. And, with an ounce of luck, it worked. Somehow I had contrived the smoothest possible exit in the circumstances.

By the time I was clear and on my way it was 1300hrs. Too late to consider the 8 hour paddle to Kohaihai today. I confirmed Little Wanganul River on VHF with Shaz and we were off. Good to leave Mikohinui behind. Although it was a great little camp ground.

The sea conditions were smooth. The coastline was limestone cliffs all the way providing some swell bounce back.

At Little Wanganui Head a reef extends a little to the north. The Little Wanganui river runs tight in behind the Head and reef. Pauls advise is to hug the Head closely and paddle into the river. 

The key is to find the interface between the swell breaking over the reef and the deeper river channel. There is usually a sweet spot depending on the height of the tide. It is 1.5hrs after high water. Hopefully enough to water for an easy entry. I sit just outside the reef break and wait for the lull. Then I tuck in round the reef and into the river channel. Easier than expected.

Entering Little Wanganui River

I get a clean run in and have to paddle hard for about 200m up river before crossing over to Shaz on the north side of the river.

We stay the night on the river bank. I check the river at low tide. The river is actually very small and the tide goes a long way out. There will be no way to avoid breakers at the river bar at LW.


Shaz. (Thursday 14 March)

This morning we were off to a late start as conditions weren’t good. Brent wanted to wait to see if it was any better with the tide coming in! We went over to the The Cowshed and had coffee and muffin, then Brent checked on the beach once again. He’ll wait a bit longer!

After lunch he checked once again and said that he was going to go for it! Crazy 🤪

Before launching he watched the waves and swell timing and counting them to see when would be best time to go for it! To me it looked like it didn’t matter  when he went he was going to be trashed. Once he decided he was committed, he sat in his kayak watching and just had to go for it! He said it was fifty fifty chance of getting out, probably one of the harder launches he has done. However, not sure how, but he made it out 👏

Originally he wanted to go as far as Kohaihai Bluff; an 8 hour paddle, and the end of the road for me! However due to leaving so late he came in a Little Wanganui River. Coming in at high tide into a river and not to much of a problem, would have been different if the tide was out. We will camp here tonight, Nice little spot and friendly locals. 

Gentle Annie to Little Wanganui short paddle 18km,  2 hours 53 minutes


Saturday 16 March, 2024 Kohaihai Bluff

End of the road at Kohaihai Bluff
Typical Kohaihai surf
Parked up at Kohaihai DOC camp
Kohaihai River – On the Scotts Beach Lookout walk
Kohaihai DOC camp
Scotts Beach Lookout

Monday 18 March, 2024 Little Wanganui River to Kohaihai Bluff

Kohaihai Campsite
Kohaihai beach and bluff

We had relocated to Kohaihai Bluff DOC camp. A lazy start to the day. Not expecting to paddle at all. The plan was to leave Little Wanganui tomorrow for Wekakura Point. A longish 9 hour paddle and there was forecast headwinds. Not much; but it didn’t take much to extend a 9hr paddle to 11+hr. Thought I would check Kohaihai again at a spot a couple of kms back from the DOC camp. It had a gentler sloping beach and no significant shore dumpers. Better than at the camp end of the road. Then we set off to Little Wanganui River to see if I could get out at dead low tide (low swell). Looked easy enough. 

The loss of the last few days due to weather had realigned our thoughts. I wasn’t going to make it around Farewell Spit now.

If I was to progress past the end of the road at Kohaihai, I could extract myself at Paturau River in 2 paddle days. And in time for the travel to Christchurch. This would mean Shaz having to drive a very long way and along some long narrow gravel roads.

Closer inspection of the forecasts hinted at northerly winds up the coast. We didn’t want to consider the prospect of not getting to Christchurch on the 22nd.

So that took away any option of progressing past Kohaihai this trip. With that in mind, I decided to  launch for Kohaihai today and finish the trip off.

Launched at lunchtime for the 5 hour paddle. The morning had been very calm on the water but the forecast showed SW 15-20kt this afternoon.

Little Wanganui River

I dragged Secala over to what remained of the river at low tide. The river bar looked OK. Just the occasional couple of waves breaking around the reef.

Low tide
Paddling past Little Wanganui Head
Little Wanganui River mouth

Paddled down river seeking protection behind the reef until I felt it was best to run the gauntlet through the small breakers.

Paddle wave safely outside Little Wanganui River. The SW is building towards 15kt
Off Karamea Beach with SW winds freshening to over 20kts

Shot out behind the outer line of breakers off Karamea Beach while the wind steadily picked up to 20kts. It was straight shoot along a continuous beach. There was little of interest on the shoreline. I picked out trees by which I could monitor progress. Thankfully some Hectors dolphins joined be for a couple of hours. They frolicked in the waves and around the kayak. Loved having them around. The other bonus was that I was making good speed; however was not an enjoyable paddle in the rough conditions.

On the way in at Kohaikai

Shaz guided me in at the spot we had identified a couple of k’s south of the Bluff. As I got in closer to the beach; a good wave inevitably caught me. Broached well enough and stayed with the powerful wave for quite some time as it propelled me ashore. Then, close to the beach; the energy of the tumbling wave fell away suddenly and I didn’t recover quick enough. A thrilling end to the day and the trip. Dragged Secala back to camper van and off to Kohaihai for the night. Still contemplating when and how I will get off this beach when we come back.

A messy surf to arrive in
Kohaihai Bluff in the distance
The end of an epic trip

Shaz. (Monday 18 March)

Brent wants to check out what Kohaihai is like today and then decide what to do next! 

So we went from Karamea to Kohaihai, then drove back to Little Wanganui as it might be ok to launch from there today. Arrive around 11.15am, he pulled the trigger and it’s go go go! The wind got up while he is preparing to leave, but said so long as it stays in that direction it’s all good 👍. The wind did change slightly and got up to 20 knots but it was in his favour as it was coming over his shoulder!

So now I have to drive back up to Kohaihai. Stopped at Vinnie’s cafe for coffee and lunch on the way.

Drove down to the beach by the aerodrome to see if I could see him or contact him on the VHF, nothing! The wind was blowing the sand from the beach into my face, felt like I had a mouth full of sand. Gave up and moved on up the road toward Kohaihai and waited in a layby on the side of the road as this looked a better place to land rather than by Kohaihai DOC camp. It wasn’t dumping on the beach like it was up there.

When he made contact he was almost at a spot where I thought he should start to turn and come in! It was rough out there thats for sure, he was coming in really well when all of a sudden he got caught by a wave and over he went! He told me that he was annoyed with himself as he rode the wave for a long time but didn’t correct himself when the power of the wave reduced. That’s why he went over! I got some photos, not the greatest but you can see the wave coming up behind him. Anyway he came out of it unscathed thank goodness and everything was still on/in his kayak! 

Distance 32.8 km 4 hours 20minutes


Shaz (Tuesday 19 Feb)

When I woke up this morning Brent said it doesn’t look like I’m paddling today the wind is against me! He would have been battling into a head wind all the way. You could see the disappointment on his face, but there’s not much we can do about the weather, it’s a fickle thing! He was hoping to get to Paturua River by tomorrow afternoon if he managed to get off the beach this morning. 

So; friends and family, that is the end of his circumnavigation for this trip! We had our morning coffee and talked about it and there was no way of getting there and having a day up our sleeve with other weather issues; and still be able to make it to Christchurch for the Sail GP.

He lent over gave me a kiss on the cheek and said thanks for being his number one support team, without me he couldn’t have done it! 🥰 so nice to hear that! 

So we made the decision, packed up and hit the road! Once we got to Westport we did all the campervan chores, had some lunch and headed for Hamner Springs for a couple of days R & R. 


2024 South Island West Coast Paddle Summary

Paddle Days 15

Weather Days 14

Voyage Total Days 29

Total Paddle Distance (km) 579.0

Total Paddle Time (hr mm) 103h 40m

Average Speed (km/hr) 5.59

7. West Coast (South) – Milford Sound to Okarito

I had completed the epic Fiordland journey at Milford Sound almost 3 years ago; on 12 March, 2021. The adventure resumes now. The second leg of the South Island circumnavigation up the West Coast. This coast has a reputation. Like its North Island counterpart. I can only expect a 50% paddle day average. My ultimate aim this trip is to clear the West Coast in the time I have available. But I have re-read Paul Caffyn’s and Lynn Paterson’s accounts of their West Coast experiences. There experiences verify that it’s unwise; bordering on arrogant, to presume such an optimistic target.

I have rekindled contact with Paul and Lynn (aka Red) for this trip. Their knowledge and support is so valuable and welcome. (And what an understatement that would turn out to be)

Paul Caffyn

Paul has been the key inspiration for my sea kayaking adventures that started in ernest in 2017. Since reading about his amazing circumnavigation of Australia in the Dreamtime Voyage; I have been captivated by the monumental hurdles he had to overcome to survive such a journey. And this was without the huge advantages that modern communications and technology provides today. The sheer audacity to conjure up this outlandish challenge; followed by the dogged determination and resilience to see it through; was inspirational. A pioneering legend in the world of kayaking.

Lynn (aka Red) Paterson

Not long before this whole NZ adventure began for me in 2017; I became aware of Redz amazing non-stop NZ circumnavigation. I read and dissected her blog. Page by page. On one level her stories told of daunting challenges; dogged resilience and determination. On the other; the sheer beauty and peace of a world that wraps around you like a spiritual cloak. Where you yield to Mother Nature in all aspects of your existence. That you disrespect at your peril.

I eventually mustered up the courage to call her; back then. When I felt worthy. Her strength of character and warmth was enveloping. Like a cloak. From the start, her guidance has been as uplifting as a tailwind; and as sage as an oracle.


Saturday 17 February, 2024 Deepwater Basin (Milford Sound) to Martins Bay

Shaz and I hit the road after work on the 14 Feb to meet the Cook Strait ferry on the 15 Feb. Milford Sound to Jackson Bay takes 3 paddle days. Solo. The best weather window that you can expect in these parts is 3 consecutive days. In a perfect world you would paddle out of Milford at the start of this window. Despite making all haste on the drive down the South Island; I would only have two good days this time. Got to be happy with that. On the West Coast.

We learn from a road sign at Te Anau that the Homer tunnel is closed overnight. Opens at 0600 hrs. Earliest we can hit the road in the morning is 0530 to meet the Homer tunnel opening time. 

The day has finally arrived. For both of us. The early starts. The intense scrutiny of weather apps and maps. Plans are made and re-made. Regularly. The only constant is change. Agility is key. And we are out of practice.

We exit the Cascade Creek camp in slumber; and get to Deepwater Basin boat ramp just as the early glow of dawn shimmers above the Darren Mountains to the east. Boaties were queuing up at the ramp. It was Saturday. And the forecast was good.

We set up Secala at the waters edge. To the side of the busy ramp. I have practiced packing Secala in the garage. I have some different equipment this time. Notably a new and bulkier Hilleberg tent. And a new sleeping mat. I will carry a spare sleeping mat now. I had figured through my solo Fiordland journey, that this old man who would struggle without one.

The tent replaces my previous MSR that didn’t handle the Fiordland conditions so well. The new tent is relegated to deck cargo, to free up hull space. I have packed for 8 days solo. For a trip that is forecast to take 4-6 days.

Calm conditions were forecast today and I will enjoy an ebb tide out of the Sound.

The waiting is over. I’m eager to get going. Farewells and paddle waves to Shaz as she pivots her attention on the next few days of her own solo journey in the camper. Towards Jackson Bay.

Leaving Deepwater Basin on the ebb tide

At 0725 I send the inReach message broadcasting that my trip has started. It’s an overcast and calm dawn. Wisps of cloud hang in the valleys and edges of the Sound.

Mitre Peak dominates the skyline. Returning overnight tour boats hover past the many cascading waterfalls on the north side. I pick up the tidal current and before long we slide past Dale Point to exit the Sound.

Approaching Dale Point on the right. Entrance to Milford Sound (Saint Anne Point) on the left

Yates Point becomes prominent 12km away. As we eased past the protection of Saint Anne Point, the 1.5m swell announces its presence. The safe haven of the Sounds are now officially over as Fiordland gives way to the exposed ocean beaches of South Westland.

Approaching Yates Point with The Haystack in the distance

I followed a line of cray pots about 100m offshore towards Yates Point which roughly marks half way to Martins Bay. The shoreline retains the ruggedness of Fiordland albeit without its vertical dominance.

Rounding Yates Point

Old habits rekindle. Like noting contingency landings; if the weather changed. There were actually beaches all along the way. The preferred landing before Martins Bay is Kaipo Bay. And it looks larger than I had expected.

Lion Rock and Ruby Beach
Lion Rock; just before Kaipo River

The overall trip was calm, uneventful and very enjoyable for the first serious outing in 3 years. Conditions permitted close shoreline paddling; with its breaking shoals. A wonderful way to kick off this adventure.

Leading into today I had a few questions about my paddle fitness and stamina. I am pleasantly surprised with the 40km effort today. There will be sterner tests to come. But I’ll take it.

Glad to come around into Martins Bay at 1430hrs. With plenty of time to set up camp.

The landing was easy enough through a small shore break at the southern end of Martins Bay. Where the rocky shoreline mets the sandy beach. 

My surf re-entry routines are exposed though. When I hit the beach I realised that I hadn’t removed my glasses and I hadn’t removed my sipper tube from under my paddle skirt.

I didn’t really notice the sandflies until I stopped moving. When they attached to me in their droves. They don’t appear as big or vicious as the Fiordland sandflies but they number almost as many. 

Sandflies not as bad as Fiordland.

Found a perfect site for the tent among the flaxes a couple of meters from the beach. The only down side was trying to keep the sand out of the tent. During my walk around later; I discover a better sand free tent site, but it is a further 80m along the beach. 

First use of new Hilleberg tent at south end of Martins Bay

The other routines fall into place. Charging batteries with solar panel, eating, sorting gear and taking walks. I don’t find any water in the immediate area. But I didn’t try too hard. I have brought plenty with me. Dusk approaches and the chores are done. 

The highlight of every day arrives when all that remains is enjoying the beauty and tranquillity of this remote and idyllic place. To experience the last vestiges of a world still unspoilt by humans. My biggest fear is that some day the adventuring will end.

Martins Bay

I look out across the sprawling bay on a wonderful evening. The images are perfect. I try etching them into my brain. Like I did at Green Islets. And Acheron Passage. I know I will never be back.

I read an inReach message from Red. She has checked-in. As supportive as ever. And will be there for both Shaz and I as our adventures unfold. So good to have her on board.

Very content with the first day back after 3 years. Tucked myself into my new Hilleberg tent as dusk dwindles to starlight.

Bedtime routines rekindled. First the sandfly slaughter. Breakfast, water bottle and pee bottle laid out inside the vestibule. Within easy reach through the insect mesh. Cellphone and headlamp at my left shoulder. And drift off to the sound of the surf. On my new luxurious sleeping pad.


Shaz

Morning everyone, Brent launched from Milford Sound boat ramp this morning around 7.30am. We were on the road by 5.30am, the Homer Tunnel was closed until 6am following road works. I’m now back in Te Anau where I’ll stay for the night. It’s so different now the place is buzzing. Shops reopened and tourists everywhere. I counted 25 buses heading towards Milford from Te Anau, crazy!


Sunday 18 February, 2024 Martins Bay to Barn Bay

Up at 0500hrs. The pack down routine of everything inside the tent begins. By headlamp. While my vacuum sealed portion of muesli, milk powder and protein powder softens up in bowl of water.

Nourished and changed into paddle gear; I exit the tent. By now it’s 0600hrs and the stars still lay claim to the dawn sky. What a beautiful day break. 

By 0630 Secala is stowed and we launch easily off the beach into the 1 meter shore break. The laden Secala has little freeboard. And is sluggish through the surf. That breaks right over the deck and into my chest. On three successive occasions.

The wet start could not detract from the perfect morning. Calm, gentle offshore breeze wafting out the Hollyford Valley and a cloudless sunrise over the Skippers Range. 

In a buoyant mood, I got into my work with more purpose and energy today. There are some mornings that you feel you could paddle forever. A good nights sleep probably helped.

A straight run across Martins Bay to the prominent Long Reef conspicuous with its rock sentinels. Big Bay looms around Long Reef. I have read plenty about it. It is 6km deep and 8km across. From Long Reef to Awarua Point. An exposed piece of ocean. With an earned reputation.

The calm conditions continued around Long Reef as Big Bay is slowly unveiled. Visually, from sea level, the depth of the bay is more impressive than its width. The distance off shore that I will be paddling is a little unnerving at first.

Of more immediate interest is the number of upwellings and shoal breaks just beyond Long Reef. And good size breakers randomly appear in the heavier sets.

As we got a little deeper into the bay, the offshore breeze backed around to the NE and lifted significantly. The short sea chop slowed progress. The going got tough and wet. It’s like Big Bay decided it had a reputation to uphold. No-one, it seems, is allowed easy passage across this Bay.

Conditions eventually improved as Awarua Point approached. The open water feeling of vulnerability dissipates. I swing past Awarua Point as close as I can. As always there are plenty of shoaling areas around these prominent Points.

In my planning for this leg; I had identified two possible landings north of Awarua Point. Hackett River and Ryans River. As I paddled by, I noted that these locations looked like good landings in these conditions.

Aptly named Longrigde Point, is only two hours paddle from Awarua Point. And just 40 minutes paddle beyond that was Gorges River. 

Gorges River has long held some fascination for me. I have read and seen documentaries about the Long family who live there. Robert Long for over 40 years. 

I was keen to stop in and say hello if possible. This opportunity is not likely to come around again.

The Gorge Islands mark the western approach to Gorge River. In flat conditions I pass easily between the islands and shore. The Long home is easily seen through a gap in the trees. 

Gorge Islands
Gorge River Valley

I hold for several minutes trying to identify the river entrance. There is a line of low breakers before me. I paddle slowly north along the shoreline. Until the entrance opened up. It was low tide. The river bar will be shallow. I lined up where I though the channel would be and shimmied over the bar. There was only inches under the hull. I landed on a stony river bank only 30 meters up river.

I nudged Secala into the riverbank and surveyed the scene. Feeling a little like an intruder. There was no sign of anyone around. No noise. No smoke. The house could barely be seen through the trees. Closer to the river mouth was a wind sock that had wrapped itself around its pole.

Gorge River mouth

Between me and the house were a some punga trees. There looked to be a barely discernible track meandering in the general direction of the house. 

I exited and pulled Secala up the river bank and headed through the pungas.

I emerged to be confronted by a high fishnet fence and a tall ramshackle gate shrouded in vegetation. I soon learn that this is to keep the deer out of the veggie garden.

Still no sign of anyone. The large gate was closed and unwelcoming. I still could not see or hear any signs of life through the vegetation. I call out. Twice. I hear movement coming from the direction of the house before a tall man emerges through the gate. Robert regards me with a little disdain. Like I have breached his personal space. Which I have, I guess. He lives in a remote place for a reason.

I quickly explain that I am just passing through on my kayak and thought I would drop in. I tell him that I have read articles about him and his family. Roberts demeanour softens. 

Catherine comes breezing through the gate and I readily accept her offer of tea. In their house we sit and talk. Robert sits on a bench at the window. Catherine brings tea and cake and joins me at the table. She clearly relishes the opportunity to chat. An outsider who has stories of his own. I ask about their children. Robert’s attention is spiked. And they both take the opportunity to talk with pride about the accomplishments of Chris and Robin.

The living area of the house is small by perfectly adequate for two. No need to cater for too many visitors. There is more to the house than I can see. But what I can see is a genuine attempt and deserved pride in living sustainably with minimal modern convenience.

Although there are a chasm of stories untold about their chosen lifestyle; I take my leave; siting another 2.5 hours paddle to Barn Bay.

Catherine gives me a shove off the river bank and joins Robert to wave me goodbye. I feel privileged to have met this remarkable couple. Who; in these days of modern convenience, find peace in solitude and comfort in simplicity. It’s a visit that is all too brief.

Visiting Robert and Catherine Long at Gorges River

The short shallow river bar is easy to punch through. With a paddle wave beyond the bar; I set course for Barn Islands that were conspicuous in the distance.

Arriving at Barn Bay

Barn Bay is much smaller than Martins. Yet more visually dramatic with its islands and reefs.

Barn Islands
Barn Bay with the Hope River at the southern end

A reef extends from Watson Bluff at the northern end; out into the bay. This provides excellent protection for landing at the northern end of the beach. I landed where the sandy beach meets the rocks of the reef. 

Sugar Loaf Islands (and reef)
Reef extending out from Watson Bluff to Sugar Loaf Islands (on a calm day)

I pulled Secala up past the high tide mark. A storm is brewing from the south. I survey the many campsite options. Ideally reasonable flat with protection from the westerly wind. And away from low lying areas that may flood. And preferably not sandy, like Martins Bay.

Camped beside over-turned dingy. And a calm Bay. (Awarua Point in the dim distance)

Eventually settled on a spot next to an overturned aluminium dingy that had been there for a while. 

The other consideration was water. There was nothing nearby. But the Hope River was an easy walk down the beach. I had plenty of water until tomorrow.

Spent the evening sitting on the dunes looking out over Barn Islands to a beautiful sunset. More wonderful images to etch in the brain. 

A message from Red. She is excited that I have landed exactly where she had.

Perfect evening at Barns

There is no paddle preparation for tomorrow. The two forecast paddle days were up. Targets have been made. And the body is holding up.

I plan to relax and enjoy a weather day in this beautiful place. Even in a storm. I snuggle into my Hilleberg tent. 


Shaz (Sunday 18 Feb)

Evening everyone update on Brent:- yesterday (Saturday) he kayaked from Milford Sound to Martins Bay. His message to me was “All good here except for the sand flies. Tent in the flaxes 3m from the beach”

Sunday:- he was on the water by 6.45am and kayaked a long way from Martins Bay to Barn Bay. He stopped at Gorges river and had a cup of tea with Long’s. If you look them up on the internet Longs from Gorge river you can read all about them living off grid and bringing up 2 children there. I have seen something on TV about them. I spent last night in Te Anau and now I’m in Cromwell for the night maybe 2 nights as the weather is not going to be kind to Brent for the next 2 days. Tomorrow I’m going to catch up with the Webb’s whom we worked for 2 years ago on their orchard. Weather is beautiful here, such a beautiful place really enjoyed our time here!


Monday 19 February, 2024 Barn Bay

The rain started during the night. But not the wind. I was well protected by Watson Bluff to the NW. And I was tucked just behind the crest of a sand dune to take the brunt out of anything from the south and west.

At 0400 I got up to have a pee and I must have startled a deer as there was a loud guttural bark nearby, when I turned on the headlamp. 

As the morning broke the wind backed to the SW. The cool and squally rain showers buffeted the tent. Even though I had some protection from the sand dune. 

When there seemed to be a break in the weather; I grabbed my water bottles and coffee kit and headed for the hunters hut at the south end of the bay. I emerged from the tent to a very different seascape. The swell was well up, as forecast.

The walk along the beach revealed a very different bay to yesterday. The ocean was wild and brown. The steep beach had menacing dumping waves. The sky was bleak and horizon threatening.

The beach is about 2km long. About a third of the way down the marshland ejects water into the bay. The water looked clean enough but figured that the Hope River with its greater flow, would offer better water. It didn’t. It was running brown after the rains. I was surprised as I figured this was a mountain river.

Looking up the Hope River valley after the rains
Hope River mouth

The hut was vacant and locked. A look through the windows revealed a real character setup. And well decked out with solar and gas. The airstrip outside the door was in need of some TLC. 

Hunters hut

Since I had no water to make a coffee at the hut, I headed back up the beach. Marsh water would have to do. 

As I headed home I watched a very dark horizon approaching over my left shoulder. I had 2km to walk. About 20 minutes. It was obvious that the horizon was gaining on me. I started to run. In the soft sand it was actually a combined run/fast walk. While carrying full water bottles and dry bags. The squall was almost upon me. Rain drops were wetting the sand and stones. And I was still 50m from the tent. Breathing hard now; my run was petering out.

The buffering wind was just touching down as I scrambled into the vestibule of the tent. Where I hunched as everything about got lashed with squally rain. This was the story of the afternoon. Outside was no place to be. 

I did enjoy watching about 20 Hectors dolphins though; working the shore break within 20m of the beach.

Cozy and warm in my Hilleberg with coffee and Em’s cookie and Kindle. And the sandflies had hunkered down too. 


Tuesday 20 February, 2024 Barn Bay

It blew hard from the SW into the night. Accompanied by frequent squalls of rain.

Daybreak revealed a calm bay but noticeably cooler. And the swell was up big time. Huge breakers right across the bay. It would be foolhardy to attempt a breakout in these conditions. 

Surf’s up
Flotsam from the storm

The high tide at 0900 might see an opening. If I could get out of the Bay, the paddling would be fine.

Had coffee and muesli watching the surf. Hectors dolphins were frolicking in the shore break within 5m of beach. Sandflies were scarce in the cool morning air. 

As the sun warmed the air, the sandflies returned with the familiar “tap dancing” on the outside of the tent.

Then another sudden change. At 1100hrs the wind had ramped up from the SW to 30kt. And really cold. After a beach walk I tucked up into the tent. The sandflies were tucked up again too. The wind continues to escalate in the afternoon. The bay is full on messy now. Went for a walk around the rocks at low tide looking for paua. Thinking that there would be easy pickings. But the conditions made it hopeless. Forecast is better for tomorrow.


Shaz. (Monday 19 Feb)

Evening everyone, well not much to tell you tonight as the weather for Brent has been awful! He sent me 2 small messages:- 7.30am “Glad I’ve got a good tent. It’s pissing down here”. 2.10pm Ok. It’s pretty stormy here but ok”. 

It has been a lovely sunny day in Cromwell, but a little windy though! Got some lovely fresh fruit from Webb’s orchard, some yummy peach’s, apricots and green gage plum so good! Nice to catch up with a couple of people still working there. Checked out my favourite cafe Fusee Rouge, still good and have the best cheese rolls ever! Tonight I’m staying at Lowburn freedom camp (free), should have come here last night never mind. Looks like I’ll stay another night here in Cromwell as I don’t feel like paying Wānaka prices. I’ll get up early on Wednesday morning and drive over to Jackson Bay; just over 3 hours away, all good though! Hopefully the weather will be better for him then.


Shaz. (Tuesday 20 Feb)

Evening everyone, messages from Brent today as follows:-

7.45am Huge swell this morning. No way out at the moment.

9.03am Ok storm last night. Fine today but heavy swell in bay. Can’t get out through the surf even if ok outside. By tomorrow swell should have dropped enough to get out. Otherwise should be nice day here. Been watching a large pod of Hector Dolphins in bay just 20m off the beach.

11.14am Been for walks along the beach to see what the storm has washed up. The wind has picked up again quite strong and very cold. Back in the tent for a while.

12.14pm Wind has really picked up now. Swell map report was right Shaz. Sunny but very cold.

4.16pm The wind is really strong here now 30+ knots. Swell high too. Hope it changes overnight especially the swell, are you in Haast now?                  

Well as you can see I changed my plans and decided to come over to Haast today. I’m staying at a POP (park over property) just a gold coin donation for the local St John’s, great idea. It’s sunny here and a nip in the air but very pleasant. Hopefully Brent will get out of Barn Bay tomorrow and get to Jackson Bay where I’ll meet him


Wednesday 21 February, 2024 Barn Bay to Jackson Bay

Dawned a beautiful clear crisp morning. The tent is heavy with dew. 

I was in no rush to launch today. Even though the storm may have passed; I knew a decent swell surge would remain through the bay. I needed good light to suss the breakout. 

Everything was pre-packed for launch yesterday. From a distance; at an obtuse angle, there was a hint of a gap in the reef break. A closer inspection was required.

The reef between Watson Bluff and Sugarloaf Rock completely absorbs the swell surge. The launch is easy. The same reef extends to the south of Sugarloaf Rock but is more submerged. The swell lifts and breaks heavily over and around it. 

From the south, the Hope River bar extends its breakers. They appear to join hands with the Sugar Loaf reef break.

Parallel with the beach, inside the seemingly endless line of breakers, is a channel of deeper water. Where the swell height is still significant but does not break.

I paddle within this zone to explore the breakout options. With only a couple of seconds at the crest of the swell I try to get a read on the line of breakers. I sit through several swell sets. Eventually figure there is enough of a gap for a breakout. With luck. Knowing that a larger set could come along at any time.

I assess my time to pull the trigger; and put the hammer down. I clear the break zone; but can’t really be sure if other breaks lurk behind. I continued to sprint for a couple of hundred meters just to be sure.

Relieved to be out. I send the routine inReach message. Next stop; Shaz at Jackson Bay.

Besides the swell, the sea conditions were fine. Breaking shoals should be the only concern.

As Cascade Point approaches an albatross swings by. Another moment of admiration for this wonderful creature.

Cascade Point is aptly named. Sheer cliffs with waterfalls tumbling over them. Majestic and picturesk.

The cliffs continue east for a couple of miles. I stay as close as the swell bounce back permits. It’s really sloppy. Both hands lock on to the paddle.

I approach the rocks to the east cautiously. I figure I can go inside them well enough. And ride a couple of nice waves through the gap.

A very memorable section of coast. Even though they were still in morning shadow.

The unsettling bounce back subsides; as I find deeper water on the path towards Smoothwater Point.

Smoothwater Point (foreground) and Jackson Head

I was quite weary by the time Jackson Head came around. The tide had a part to play in that as well today. 

Approaching Jackson Head
Jackson Head

Around the corner and Shaz is waiting by the camper.

Jackson Bay

There was a good sense of satisfaction that the first key solo leg was now completed. And in good time. The new gear has passed the test. With flying colours. And the body is performing well after the 3 year hiatus.

Most importantly, the journey has resumed. It has been missed.


Shaz. (Wednesday 21 Feb)

Evening everyone; Brent was on the water by 6.59am this morning, somehow he made it out and paddled all the way to Jackson Bay. He’s very tired and now in bed, complaining about all the noise 😂 around here! Lots of boats are going out to put their cray pots out! 

While I was waiting for him to come in I went for a walk through to Ocean Beach to see if I could see him coming. Sure enough after a 20 minute wait he came around the corner. Couldn’t get a close photo of him, but a nice one of the bay though.

Shaz walk out to Ocean Beach

Thursday 22 February, 2024 Jackson Bay to Haast Beach

Todays forecast was too good to miss. Even though I had just linked up with Shaz again.

A beautiful dawn revealed streaky cirrus invading the sky; giving way to alto at the horizon.

Loading up.
Streaky cirrus

Nice to be back to a cruisier launch preparation from the camper. And I would only have a fraction of the gear to carry with me now.

Perfect start to the day

The plan was to head for Haast Beach. Where there was beach access. I had no idea what surf conditions to expect. But there aren’t many good options north of here. You simply had to deal with whatever the ocean delivered.

I had previously asked Red about Mussel Point as a landing option. Which is about half way to Haast. Her response was brief and on point ……#@***^#……..(Translated) Mussel Point wouldn’t be an option. In any case, the forecast was too good to limit it to 3.5hr paddle. Days like today had to be taken advantage of.

I set off at dawn; with Shaz prepped to wave me down at Haast Beach.

The first hour was flat and easy going with a gentle off-shore wind on the starboard beam. 

Open Bay Islands are the only clear reference point on this uniform stretch of coast. They are 25km away and slightly on my port bow. There relative movement will be oh so slow for the first few hours.

The off-shore slowly backed around to a NE headwind and gradually increased to 12-15kt. The associated chop reduced my speed down to 2km/hr for the next 3 hours.

In the middle of the Bay a cray fisherman #608 detoured to come alongside to take photos. Not a common sight I guess. To see a kayaker in the middle of the Bay.

Finally reached landfall at Okuru where the river outlet created a messy sea state for a few hundred meters. Open Bay Islands are now abeam. The shoreline is nasty. Heavy dumping conditions along this stretch of coast. 

Thankfully the shore break appeared to settle down, as I got further north along Haast Beach. 

Hector dolphins joined me for a couple of km just outside the shore break zone. They are quite tiny; especially the juveniles. And playful in a reclusive way. Like shy children around a stranger. I cherish their company.

When I think I’m getting close to the Haast Beach access; I turn on the VHF and try to make contact with Shaz. We make contact; and my first question; as usual, is “Can you see me yet?”. I think I am closer than I really am. According to her the inReach tracker says I have some way to go yet!

There are no markers on the beach to indicate the access road. And there is no cell coverage here. Eventually I spot Shaz’s yellow flag waving.

She keeps waving the flag though. Even though I’m only 100m straight out in front of her. 

I am weary now. It’s been a tougher day than expected. Thankfully there is an easy shore break. Unlike what I observed off Okuru. And a smooth dry landing.

Shaz is still waving the yellow flag. Which I now realise is as much for the sandflies; as it was for my benefit haha.

Haast Beach looking north. In the distance is Tauperikaka Point
Looking south. Open Bay Islands over Shaz left shoulder
Beach access to the car park

It would have been nice to stay camped at the beach for the night as there is another good paddle day forecast tomorrow. But Shaz’s enquiries with DOC revealed that camping was not permitted there.

We loaded Secala and gear and headed for the Haast Motor Camp for the night. 


Shaz. (Thursday 22 Feb)

Evening everyone, well it’s the end of another day! Brent left Jackson Bay at 7.22am heading to Haast Beach to meet me for lunch and then maybe continue on a bit longer! However thats not what happened 😂 Before he left he said it was estimated to be 5 hours 54 minutes hours, but ended up taking 7 hours 20 minutes. His overall average speed 4 kilometres per hour, very slow compared to 6 kilometres per hour normally. Due to head winds and choppy seas. Haast Beach was dumping waves onto the beach, but Brent being the pro that he is coped very well. So he called it a day and we are now parked up in a holiday park (very expensive one + $4 for washing and $4 for the dryer) never mind. Brent will be back at it tomorrow morning and make the best he can as the weather is turning bad over the weekend. I went into Haast today to get some bread, there was nothing left at all. So I asked were they expecting any today and he said they only have bread delivered every Tuesday and Friday. We have it good at home thats for sure. I asked him how the locals get on and he said they put in a regular order for the week and freeze it.


Friday 23 February, 2024 Haast Beach to Whakahopai River

Back out to Haast Beach from Haast Motor Camp. The access to the beach is a 50m walk through the scrub. As always, I head straight out to survey the surf. Yesterday’s shore break was easy enough. Coming in. Getting out can be a different beast altogether. Thankfully not much had changed overnight.

Loaded up Secala with Shaz’s help and perfectly executed the launch through the small shore break into the calm water beyond. This is the first fully exposed ocean beach launch so far this trip. But it’s easy today.

Today could be a very short day or a very long one. Whakahopai River has an access road down to its river mouth. And is only 4.5hrs paddle. The next accessible landing was at Bruce Bay; another 6 hours paddle past Whakapohai.

The weather is forecast to deteriorate during the day with a storm coming through tomorrow. The next couple days would be off the water. I discard Bruce Bay as an option today.

Whakahopai River is the target destination. The key unknown was the condition of the road down to the river mouth. After launch; the plan is for Shaz to drive ahead to check this out before returning to rendezvous at the Ship Creek lookout. Which is 3hrs into my paddle north. Where we would discuss the options over VHF. Ship Creek would be the alternate landing option if Shaz found issues with Whakahopai.

I set off along Haast Beach which continues uninterrupted until it reaches Ship Creek at Tauperikaka Point. The monotony is broken by the welcome return of Hectors dolphins closer to shore.

Shaz waves me down at Ships Creek. She has discovered that the road access down the Whakapohai River to the beach had been washed out half way down; by a flood. A couple of months ago, according to local residents.

The choice was either to end the day at Ships Creek after only 3hrs paddling; or continue another 1.5hrs to Whakahopai River.

It was a line call. The benefits of continuing to Whakahopai were that the landing; and re-launch, were likely to be easier than Ships Creek. And I would be 1.5hrs further north. Every hour gained now; can be very advantageous down the track.

The downsides were the unknowns. I had no idea what the river bar, surf or shore conditions were like at Whakahopai. I would have to stash/hide Secala somewhere for a couple of days. Secure from swollen river and potential pilfering. Then walk up the river to meet Shaz.

I decided to take the punt. On to Whakapohai River while to going was good.

The paddle north from Ship Creek was amazing. The extension of Haast Beach ends here. Rocky formations feature along the steep shoreline past Seal Point, Arnott Point and Knights Point. The low swell and calm conditions meant I could weave through these formations along the way. A fascinating and enjoyable paddle. 

At Adiantum Bluff looking north towards Seal Point and Arnott Point (big rock in distance)
Arnott Point

Shaz makes VHF contact at the Knights Point lookout carpark on the cliffs above.

I see a couple of small pontoon boats amongst the rocks. With divers on board. And wondered where they had launched from on this remote stretch of coast. 

With high anticipation, I navigate the rocky shoreline that shrouds the Whakahopai river entrance. 

I round the headland to discover a beautiful and easy entry into the river. It was high tide. Coincidently.  As a consequence the river entrance was wider. And deeper. The river bar was mellow. What a welcome conclusion to the day. A hard right turn and up the river a couple of hundred meters until it braided. There were signs of a recent flood. Large uprooted trees occupied the middle of the river. And the river bank has been scoured in places. On the river bank near the mouth were a  couple of 4×4 utes with trailers. The boats I had seen had clearly launched from here. 

Whakahopai River mouth is below the headland (top left).
Uprooted tree from recent flood

Knowing rain was on the way, I pulled Secala well off the river. On the inside of a large bend. I also want to leave Secala out of sight. Losing any gear would be annoying.

Secured everything inside and tied Secala to a tree. Rain was forecast. But not in flood proportions. I hope. And she would have to survive a couple of days.

Secala hidden and secured for a couple of days

With a dry bag full of my more valuable equipment, I set off to find Shaz. Figured I’d leverage the local knowledge. And followed the 4×4 tracks up river. Making river crossings where they made them. Until I reached their river bank access up onto the road.

Where to access road is washed away

Another kilometre and there was Shaz waiting on the roadside near some dwellings. That turned out a lot easier than expected. An adventurous and satisfying day come to a close.

Off we went to Lake Paringa for a couple of days to see out the weather.


Shaz. (Friday 23 Feb)

Sorry everyone for not updating you lately, some places have hardly any internet or none at all! Anyway here is an overall update of Brent’s kayak progress.

Brent left Haast Beach and was heading for Whakapohai River mouth, I was to meet him at Ship Creek to give him an update of whether it was possible for me to get down to the river or not. So I drove to the road that lead down to Whakapohai river and stopped at the first house I came to as it appeared to be a private road with signs that said NO motorhome day or night. I drove down it anyway! I spoke to the old fellow there and he said it was a good thing that I stopped as the road had washed out last month due to river flooding about 100 meters down the road. 

Back to Ship Creek and report this to Brent via VHF, he decided to proceed anyway and would walk out to where I could meet him. He tied up the kayak way up off the river bank in a grassed area, then walked out to the old guys house where I was. The weather for the next 2-3 days was out of the question to paddle, storm coming through. We stayed at Lake Paringa for the next 3 nights.


Monday 26 February, 2024 Whakahopai River to Hunts Beach

Distance 36.5km Time 6h 24m Ave Speed 5.7km/hr

We are both up at 0530 today. For the 20km drive back to Whakahopai River. Followed by the stroll back down the river to Secala.

I had checked on Secala yesterday. After the rain. And replenished the water and food for todays trip. Probably to Hunts Beach all going well. Our rendezvous point would be Bruce Bay. 6 hours paddle away. And possible exit if necessary.

I wasn’t sure what to expect at the Whakahopai River mouth today. It was dead low tide. And the swell would be up significantly too. Predicted over 2m. After dropping me off to wander down the river; Shaz would have to go back to Lake Paringa for cellphone reception. To receive my inReach message. To know if I had got out safely. Or to figure out if I hadn’t.

I half paddled and floated Secala downstream. The river mouth was much narrower. And too shallow to paddle.

I sized up two alternatives. One was off the steep beach through some hefty shore dumpers. The other was closer to the slightly more protected river mouth with a much more chaotic swirling surf. I chose the later. More predictable. Despite the swell; the sea conditions were good. I only needed to get about 20m off the beach to be clear.

With a little luck; a successful launch. It always seems easy when it’s done. 

The stunning rocky coastline continues past Abbey Rocks to Tititira Head. Beautiful small sandy beaches tucked in between the rocky cliffs are exposed now at low tide.

On the way across to Heretaniwha Point a very large fish jumps clear of the water ahead of me; and summersaults in the air. I figure it’s a mako by the unstylish nature of the breach and re-entry. Any kind of dolphin would be much more elegant.

Buttress Point (foreground) and Heretaniwha Point (distance)
Bruce Bay is just around Heretaniwha Point (foreground)

As I rounded the prominent Heretaniwha Point into Bruce Bay a light SW breeze set in.

Bruce Bay was going to be our rendezvous comms checkpoint. And a possible exit. If the surf conditions were good. I was concerned that the surf conditions could make Hunts Bay challenging for both an entry and exit. The key consideration being the exit tomorrow.

As Bruce Bay opened up I fired up the VHF. Despite several attempts, there was no reply. There was about 3.5km between us. Which should have been OK with line of sight. I reached for the cellphone thinking Bruce Bay must be an important settlement deserving of 21st century services. No reception there either.

I made the executive decision to continue around Makawhio Point to Hunts Beach. Just 1.5hrs paddle away. I would just deal with the surf conditions that Hunts Beach served up. As usual. 

I figured Shaz would see what I was up to from the inReach tracker. Little did I know that Shaz was having challenges keeping up with my location due to the lack cellular coverage. She had to keep driving and back-tracking to find coverage.

Approaching Hunts Beach I tried again in vain to contact Shaz via VHF. And no sign of her on the beach with her yellow flag.

The landing looked ominous. There were a set of breakers 150m from shore as well as a tumbling shore break. The beach looked to have a shallow slope. After a lengthy observation I sussed a gap between the outer breaks. Getting through that was the key objective. I would deal with the shore break when I got there. I timed my run through the gap well and rode the shore break before a controlled broach onto the beach. I was saturated but well satisfied with the safe landing. I looked out momentarily and tried to figure out how I would break out tomorrow. The state of tide would make a big difference. An assessment best left for the morning.

Hunts Beach looking south to Makawhio Point
Cook Bluff in the distance

As I dragged Secala up the beach, Shaz appeared. She had had an adventure of her own trying to keep track of me. The camper was conveniently located at the top of the beach. There were a couple of houses nearby. There was no-one home at either house to ask if it was OK for us to stay. We decided to stay anyway. Laid all the get gear out over the driftwood and enjoyed a beer. It’s always so good to be able to park overnight wherever you land.


Shaz. (Monday 26 Feb)

Up early before sunrise to get to the river mouth so Brent could get on the water. I dropped him off and headed back to Lake Paringa. There I waited to make sure that he was able to get out OK and recommence his kayaking. At 7.49am got the email from his iReach to say he was on his way. He was determined to get to Hunts Beach today! I was waiting at Bruce Bay for him to go past but never saw him. Another place where there was NO internet, so drove back down the road to get some internet and saw that he was about to arrive at Hunts beach oops 😬 

I got there and he was walking up the beach asking where have I been 😊. It took him 6.5 hours, which is 37km.

Anyway walked around the houses to ask if it was ok to camp the night at the beach. I walked to 3 houses where people were living but no one home, weirdly the next morning still no one around! So we just parked up and settled in for the night anyway!


Tuesday 27 February, 2024 Hunts Beach to Okarito

The tide was further out on the shallow sloping beach this morning. The outer breakers looked menacing. But there was still a gap to exploit. The same one. And a good enough hollow behind the shore break to sit and time the breakout.

An easy enough launch through the shore break despite getting a drenching. And timed the run through the outer breakers to perfection. Starting to feel a little cocky. My paddle fitness was returning. And my surf nouse has been flawless, so far. 

Cook Bluff with Otorokua Point in the distance

Todays forecast was a light 10-12kt NE headwind; which would be OK unless light turned to moderate. Today is already a big day. 10 hours. Pesky headwinds could push my limits. I had loaded Secala with gear for a random overnighter if by chance I couldn’t make Okarito today. The was only one beach access at Gillespie’s Beach before Okarito. And this had a bad reputation.

Conditions started of with a light offshore before backing around to the NE. Thankfully it remained below 10kt.

Otorokua Point (Gillespies Beach around the Point)

I had an amazing time with Hectors dolphins today. They joined me off Gillespies Beach and stayed with me way into the bight past Galway Point. In typical fashion, their approach is like a timid child. Most often the appear at the limit of your peripheral vison. Or approaching from behind is common. When you are subtly alerted to their presence by their “blow”.

Once they are with you, there is an irrepressible urge to lift the pace. To engage with these beautiful mammals. To entice them to stay. For as long as possible.

So far this trip they have engaged in relatively small groups. Seemingly always in pairs. Or multiple pairs. This time I had upwards of 20 around me. They would take turns to approach from behind and criss cross in front of the bow. Then swim under and around Secala. They seemed so playful. Curiously their nose never seemed to break the surface. Just their blow hole and their back. Enough to see their ghostly grey underside through the water.

Without realising; I had kept up a decent pace for nearly 2 hours. Such an uplifting experience.

I decided I should stop. But not from weariness. There was so much more paddling left in the day that I needed manage myself better. I stopped paddling for a snack. And, more importantly, some fluids. In less than a minute the Hectors were swarming around me en masse. Maybe concerned for my welfare! More likely that they had lost their source of entertainment. And then, in a heartbeat, they were all gone.

I hoped that they would return as I resumed paddling. Alas, they didn’t.

The ocean turned grey with glacial water as I passed the Fox and Franz Joseph estuaries.

Fox glacier was very distinct from my ocean view and Mt Cook peeked out of the clouds occasionally.

View of Fox Glacier and Mt Cook
Gillespies Point

As I made my final course change at the Waiho River some weariness set in. With the high tempo paddling and a slight head wind for much of the day. 

Omoeroa Bluff (just before the Waiho River – outlet for the Franz Joseph)

I was on the home straight now with only 2 hours to Okarito. The wind had finally backed around to the NW making life a little easier.

Was pleased when Okarito came into view at Kohuamarua Bluff. We had stayed at Okarito before. I knew there was a dumping shore break even on a good day. And there were outer breaks to deal with as well. Yesterday’s 2m swell was predicted to increase. I prepared for a hard landing.

There was good cell coverage here so called Shaz. She had arrived at the campsite. I waited for her to come to the beach. To find a good landing spot and wave me in. There wasn’t one.

I packed everything down and battened the hatches. My pack down routine was well sorted now. 

I decided on a spot a couple of hundred meters south of the lagoon outlet. And to my surprise managed to time my run well enough for a safe landing.


Shaz. (Tuesday 27 Feb)

Brent was on the water early heading for Okarito, big day! I left as soon as he did! Just didn’t want to be at Hunts beach on my own, weird feeling!

Brent leaving Hunts Beach

So I headed for Fox Glacier. Wouldn’t you know it, nothing opens until after 8.15am. So I waited until Neve’s opened, ordered some breakfast and coffee. What to do now; so I parked up and saw a sign that said Lake Matheson 6km so decide to go and have a look. Heaps of tourists down there, Americans and Chinese by the bus load! I decided to do the walk to the View of Views lookout – 45 minutes. You look across the lake to Mt Aspiring and Mt Cook, they were visible surrounded by cloud though. I ended up walking around the whole lake 1hr 15min. That deserved a coffee at the cafe. 

Then I headed for Franz Josef to do all the home cores, empty waste water & toilet, fill water tank, rubbish, recycling, top up diesel and do some shopping as we were getting low on supplies.

Then headed for Okarito. We have been here before! There’s plenty of internet there 😊 yeah, just makes life easier with regular updates on Brent’s whereabouts. 

Brent came in 4.45pm, he paddled for 10 hours today and travelled 56km. He said that he was followed by a pod of dolphins for a good hour and half. When he stopped to have a bit to eat and take some photos they swam around him in a circle and under the kayak before disappearing. Okarito campground is really nice, with nice hot showers for $2, clean toilets and friendly hosts. It’s more like a DOC camp with upmarket facilities.


6. Fiordland – Paddle Summary and Video

February / March, 2021

07 Feb Orepuki to Wairaurahiri River 40.0km 6.66hrs

08 Feb Wairaurahiri River to Green Islets 36.0km 6.20hrs

07 & 08 Feb Orepuki to Green Islets

Then 8 days at Green Islets (weather)


17 Feb Green Islets to Puysegur Landing 23.0km 2.80hrs

18 Feb Puysegur Landing to Luncheon Cove 54.8km 9.50hrs

19 Feb Luncheon Cove to Acheron Passage 21.9km 4.40hrs

20 Feb Acheron Passage to Disappointment Cove 11.9km 2.00hrs

17, 18, 19 & 20 Feb Green Islets to Disappointment Cove

Then 4 days at Disappointment Cove (weather)


25 Feb Disappointment Cove to Gut Hut 51.2km 9.00hrs

26 Feb Gut Hut to Deep Cove 24.6km 4.50hrs

25 & 26 Feb Disappointment Cove to Deep Cove

8 days spent with Shaz before returning to Deep Cove (1 night)


07 Mar Deep Cove to Deas Hut 34.6km 5.60hrs

08 Mar Deas Hut to Caswell Sound 29.0km 6.20hrs

07 & 08 March. Deep Cove to Caswell Sound

Then 2 days in Caswell Sound (weather)


11 Mar Caswell Sound to Bligh Sound 46.4km 8.00hrs

12 Mar Bligh Sound to Milford Sound 53.2km 10.00hrs

11 & 12th March Caswell Sound to Milford Sound

Fiordland Statistics (Orepuki to Milford Sound)

Paddle Days12
Weather Days14
Voyage Total26
Total Distance (km)426.6
Total Paddle Time (hrs)75.06
Average Speed (km/hr)5.68

Fiordland Highlights Feb/Mar 2021

Green Islets (8 days)

Disappointment Cove (4 days)

Caswell Sound (2 days)

5. Fiordland – Deep Cove to Milford Sound

Sunday 07 March, 2021 Deep Cove to Deas Hut (Thompson Sound)

Arrived yesterday by Real Journeys ferry to Deep Cove. For the 2nd solo leg through Fiordland. Said goodbye to Shaz again. This time at Manapouri.

Shaz seeing me off at Manapouri. Heading for Deep Cove.

We had just spent 9 days touring Catlins and Southland. On a rest and recuperation tour. Soft bed and good food. With a high fat content preferably. Like salami and cheese. In the fridge! I had lost a fair amount of weight during the 19 day effort from Orepuki to Deep Cove.

On the bus and over the Wilmot Pass. Steady rain sets in. It was calm at Deep Cove even though there are northerlies forecast for today. On arrival I checked in on Secala. Still there and still ship shape. Nothing appears tampered or missing. Good start.

View from Deep Cove Hostel

I checked in with Billy (Hostel Manager) who said the sea conditions in the Sound would be good today. I was encouraged to make an immediate start back towards Gut Hut (4 hour paddle) but not convinced with Billy’s assessment. Asked if he could raise the Real Journeys day tour on VHF; who were currently out in the Sound. They reported back that there were 15-20kt northerlies in the Malaspina Reach. Thought so. I will be staying in the Hostel tonight. As expected. And make an early start in the morning. To Deas Hut (Thompson Sound) hopefully. About 6 hours paddle. Will be HW at about 0630 tomorrow morning.

When the rain eased I set about re-organising and packing Secala ready for the morning. It’s an easier pack with less provisions required for this leg to Milford Sound. Hopefully!

Deep Cove Hostel is $40 per night + $10 wifi (250MB). The rooms are comfortable and the facilities good. A big communal kitchen and really well heated. Would be a good place to spend a couple of days doing walks and day paddles maybe. Up Hall Arm or Crooked Arm.

Sunday 7th March – Up at 0530, breakie of muesli, banana and tea. I change into my paddle gear inside my room. I have dried my damp wetsuit, Adrenaline top and socks in my warm room overnight. The easiest transition into paddle gear I have ever had. Warm dry gear and no sandflies. But I’m going out into light rain. With paddle jacket on, I finish loading Secala by headlamp. The tide is well in. I will have the advantage of the ebb tide today. By 0700 there is sufficient daylight to launch and off we go into the mist, cloud, light rain and mirror calm water.

Leaving Deep Cove looking down Doubtful Sound. Rolla Island to left of bow. Elizabeth Island on right of bow.

As I exit Deep Cove the sun rises behind me. And behind the cloud shrouded mountains. It’s loom emerges stronger revealing the huge landscape with layers of mist and cloud. I stop paddling. Take a moment. There are more waterfalls now. Spilling out of the mist. The atmosphere is surreal. From another time. It’s so eerily quiet too. The occasional solitary bird chatter breaks the silence and reverberates across the Sound. Confirming life and breaking a blissful trance. A dinosaur could lift its’ head out of the tree canopy; or mist, at any moment. And I wouldn’t blink an eye. Not such a stretch of the imagination.

Real Journeys overnight cruise boat returning to Deep Cove base through the passage inside Elizabeth Island.

At around mid morning the mist rises on the eastern slopes, with the sun breaking through often now. This adds all sorts of perspective to the landscape. I take photos. Often. In the hope of capturing the frequent changes of light. And the perfect image. They are all perfect. Entire scenes change perspective, depth, contrast and beauty within seconds. So often when finished taking a photo; I am taking the same, but different, scene again. Within seconds. I soon give up; and just enjoy the moments.

Waterfalls are under flood now. Magnificent. This is waterfall heaven. I’m a waterfall junkie. What a wonderful paddle.

Cloud lifting down Malaspina Reach
Turning into Pendulo Reach towards Thompson Sound. Seymour Island on the left.

Back at the major junction of Doubtful Sound, I turn to starboard and into Pendulo Reach, towards Thompson Sound. As I pass Seymour Island I see there are good looking beaches on my right between Espinosa Point and Pack Point. Then Bradshaw Sound extends an invitation out on the right; as I enter Thompson Sound. So many options to explore go begging. Another day; maybe. Hopefully!

Thompson Sound

Thompson Sound is calm. Initially. Secretary Island provides a buffer to the ocean and the rising SW wind. About a quarter of the way up the Sound a large spectacular waterfall spills from Secretary Lake. More stops and more photos.

Waterfall from Secretary Lake

The SWly is intensifying over the top of Secretary Island now. Sending strong wind gusts down the steep ravines and across Thompson Sound. The gust direction is influenced by the shape of the ravine. Sometimes a cross wind; sometimes a head wind. They are easily read. A preemptive grip on the paddle, thigh brace and lean, sees them through.

It will be rough outside today. I will stay somewhere in Thompson Sound. I’m targeting Deas Hut, but Pandora River is a good alternative. Just 30 minutes further up the Sound. One option is a shared Hut (potentially); the other a solo camp.

Half way up Thompson Sound. This is the only ship I see during the whole trip. Looks like a research vessel.
Deas Cove Hut

There’s always a compromise when sharing a hut. The key one for me is around sleep patterns. I’m usually early to bed and early to rise. Earlier than most. And it’s important for me to get early starts on paddle days. To get the best of the conditions. And minimise the chances of getting caught out, if they escalate. That this region is renowned for. That I experienced at Puysegur. After a late start.

There are a couple of boats anchored in the Cove. It could be busy. I get up to the hut and there are 3 hunter/fishermen (Matt, Steve & Finn) from Kapiti in this 10 bunk hut. I have a chat and they make me a cup of tea. Good buggers. I decide to stay. They said that last night the hut was full of young guys on a bender. They moved out for the night.

The boys are off for a dive and fish this afternoon. Hope they do well. Selfishly!

This is a short day for me as I sit out the strong SW. Tomorrow they are meant to ease for my intended trip outside to Caswell Sound. I have all the afternoon to enjoy the area. While the boys are away fishing, I gather and chop a good amount of firewood and light a fire in the potbelly. To warm up the fishermen on their return. Brownie points. Might earn me a feed.

There are a couple of very friendly fantails here. Following me around. I get the solar panels out during the sunny afternoon. After tomorrow there is a weather front rolling through. So I use every opportunity to charge the devices. Am hoping to be tucked into Caswell Sound tomorrow; to sit out the weather.

Deas Cove looking south into Thompson Sound.
Neck Cove. Looking north through the entrance to Thompson Sound.

I take a walk though to Neck Cove just 100 meters through the bush; on the other side of the headland. It’s a funny looking place. Dead trees standing in swampy ground surrounded with toe toe’s that dominate the area. Can see the entrance to Thompson Sound from here.

The Kapiti boys return at about 6pm with crays and blue cod. They give me a crayfish tail that I only eat half of. Out of courtesy more than anything. And more reluctantly decline the offer of blue cod! I have already had a 2 serve dehydrated meal, so feeling quite bloated. It was funny when they asked if I like crayfish. To which I said “not particularly” but never pass up the opportunity of fresh food out here. They laughed and said that I must get crayfish regularly. Because only people who don’t get crayfish; say they love it!! They admitted not being fond of it either. But enjoyed catching them. Tough life for fishermen. Finally into bed at 9pm after an enjoyable evening.


Monday 08 March, 2021 Deas Hut to Caswell Sound

Woke early, as usual, wanting to get a good start today. But the boys were still well tucked in; so I didn’t rise until 0700. Didn’t want to disturb them too early as they have been good buggers. Compromise. Got up as quiet as I could. Took all my gear outside the hut to pack. By the time I was ready to leave, Matt was up. At least I could say goodbye and thanks to him.

Eventually paddled out of the Cove at about 0800. It’s a grey morning with a light southerly wafting up Thompson Sound. The horizon is looking very lumpy and ominous as I approach the open ocean at the Sound entrance. I’m dubious, but decide to have a look around Shanks Head before making a final assessment. I know the look of the horizon can be deceiving sometimes. And I can easily return into the Sound if necessary.

There are a number of convenient refuge points today, that can be factored into the assessment. Nancy Sound and Charles Sound are pull out options before Caswell Sound. From Shanks Head these Sounds are only one hours paddle apart respectively.

As I round Shanks Head the landscape is, once again, awe inspiring and daunting. It actually takes your breath away. With an expletive thrown in. For emphasis. It’s so rugged, imposing and huge; as far as you can see. There’s no let up to the monstrosity of this place. It seems. With an effort I refocus on what is in front of me.

The horizon behind me is still very grey and rain is clearly occurring not too many kilometres away. It looks slow moving and is further out to sea. Closer to shore I am experiencing only light southerlies although the sea conditions are lumpy and irregular. It’s OK. I decide to push on. My only concern is the rain behind, and seaward of me. Visibility would be a worry. I’m hoping it’s slow moving enough for me to find refuge if required.

The sea state stays the same until I get past Anxiety Point at the entrance to Nancy Sound; when it smoothes out a little.

I get past Nancy Sound and Charles Sound with the rain bands still behind me but seemingly getting closer on my port beam. But not closer to shore. I continue to keep a wary eye out. It is very slow moving at least. Caswell Sound is only another 1 hours paddle away. I continue on.

As I approach Caswell Sound there is clearly a good work-up going on with about 50+ Sooties and an albatross furiously working the area. I already have my helmet and GoPro on my head as I had set up to take footage of the entrance to the Sound via the Styles Island gap. Then I found myself in the middle of blue fin tuna leaping clear out of the water all around me. They are quite small by blue fin standards; only about 20-30kg. I try to turn the GoPro on, to find that the battery is dead!! Shit!! I had used it several times today. But this is no time to have a dead battery? Gutted.

What an amazing sight though. I just stopped and enjoyed the show while it lasted. Last night the Kapiti boys were talking about the blue fin that frequent the area.

I was tempted to continue on to Looking Glass Bay today but thought I would come into Caswell to check it out. And txt Shaz for a forecast. Caswell has a safe and sheltered beach but I still have half the day available. I am tempted to make progress while the conditions are OK. Two Thumb Bay is only an hour paddle away and Looking Glass Bay is 2 hours paddle. Either would be done easily today. The SWly is forecast to increase though. As usual.

I enter Caswell Sound inside Styles Island. The tide is ebbing swiftly through the narrow passage. I push though the calm surface and quickly emerge on the other side of Styles Island into the Sound.

From the ocean – the gap between Styles Island and the mainland leading into Caswell Sound
Navigating through the channel on an ebbing tide. Styles Island on the left.
Coming out of the channel into Caswell Sound
Caswell beach ahead

A short paddle around the corner to a steep boulder beach. It is almost low tide.

On the boulder beach looking out towards the entrance to Caswell
Caswell beach

I spend a while surveying the area. It is very rocky right up to the bush edge. There is no flattish clear ground for a tent; except on, or adjacent to water courses. They are dry now but a weather front is due in the next 24-36 hours.

I relaunch to check the conditions outside of Caswell Sound. If good, I will head for Two Thumb Bay. On the chart, it looks to be more sheltered from westerly swells, with a shroud of protecting reefs at its entrance. On the flip side; I didn’t want any risk of being tied down on an exposed beach. For the sake of only 1 hours paddle gain.

The ocean conditions have deteriorated in the last 2 hours. I decide it’s not worth it, so turned back to the sheltered beach. I discover now that I have left my mooring/tow rope tied to the tree at Deas Cove. Bugger! I have spare rope that will do just fine.

The camp finally set up. Secala behind.

Finding a suitable camp spot takes some time. I wander all over again. There are small sloping grassy spots above the beach but these were either too steep or too close to dry creek beds. I finally chose a flat area of boulders at the top of the beach, as far away from creeks as I can. One currently dry; the other flowing well from the steep ravine behind. I clear an area of boulders and smooth out the sandy base using a piece of driftwood. I knew I could be here a day or two so took the time to set up camp as secure as possible. Ahead of a front that is forecast to blast through. Then it was time to build a fire and settle in with coffee, cheese and salami. Satisfied with progress today and all going to plan.

Once the boulders are cleared away, a smooth hard sandy surface for the tent.
Drying out some gear
Looking down on Caswell Beach from up the creek. Camp is below the scrub to the right of photo.
Better out, than in

Tuesday 09 March, 2021 Caswell Sound

Casually got up at 0730 to a cool grey misty morning. Early cloud movement indicated a moderate NE breeze. The ground was wet and it looked like more rain is on the way.

Caswell Sound

Decided to make use of the day and head up to the end of the Sound for a look at the old historic Caswell Sound hut. For the 5 hour return trip I just take the coffee pot with flatbread and peanut butter. In sachets. Discovered these little packets of joy while away with Shaz. Perfect for a kayaker; with an addiction.

Hugged the south shoreline and came across a couple of majestic waterfalls. Maybe the best yet. The Sound was calm with an ebbing tide.

Shirley Falls emerging from Shirley Lake above
Shirley Falls entry to the Sound. Nudged to bow in close. Awesome!

Very enjoyable and relaxing trip up to the end of the Sound taking about 2.5 hours. Hugged the shore scouting for deer (or moose!). And checking out the waterfalls.

The end of Caswell Sound. Mary Peaks behind.
Heading for the river in the search for Caswell Hut. The river source is Lake Manchant just behind the low ridge above.

Consulted my TopoMap to find the exact location of the hut. It is on the left bank just before the first rapids on the river.

Caswell Hut (centre left) in the bush a few hundred meters up the river.
Landed and tied Secala up just before the first rapids.
Historic Caswell Hut. And is still in use!

The hut is a relic. It’s clearly still in use according to the hut book. There are two bunks with reasonable looking foam mattresses. It’s very dark inside having only 2 small windows. There are tarps and large plastic bags strung up inside against the roof; presumably where it’s leaking. Or where there’s heavy condensation. Even the hut book is wrapped up in heavy plastic. Can’t leave a comment as there is no pen.

Well past it’s “used by” date.

I make my coffee inside the hut and enjoy my peanut butter sachets before heading back down the river.

I hug the north shoreline this time. This side lacks waterfalls but has some good landing spots; especially Green Point and a beach opposite Dog Point. The low tide now unveils loads of mussels along the rocky shore. Happily fill up my deck bag.

Mussels revealed at low tide

As I reach Hansard Point, near the Sound entrance, the wind really whips up through the entrance. With a solid grip on the paddle; I sidle across the Sound to my beach.

The fishing vessel “Conchita” happens to be hanging out in the settled waters just off my camp. He has been there for some time as I paddled down the north side. Once I land at camp I make contact with him on VHF Ch 10. He says he is cleaning up his fish before heading outside to rough seas; and up to Milford Sound. He offers me a ride knowing the weather is closing in. After a bit of a chat he offers me a ride again, that I politely decline; again. He says he will be back this way in about a week. If I need.

He eloquently puts things perfectly in perspective. In these parts you must be patient. Be safe. Don’t take risks. Good conditions will always follow bad. Eventually.

It’s time to get out of my wetsuit! A regular event. Surely I have figured out a better transition process by now. I haven’t. I guess getting changed inside the tent would reduce my level of exposure. But the changing process would be awkward and take longer. And I would take sandflies into the tent. And I can’t run! Running doesn’t work really. But the distraction helps.

I just get on with it. No choice. At least this time I am dry in my wetsuit. Dry skin will allow my dry clothes to slip on quicker. It’s still a harrowing few seconds as bare white skin is instantly smothered by gorging sandflies.

It’s cup of tea time with a cheese and salami snack before preparing tea. It’s already 4pm! It’s been a very enjoyable day. Just cruising and exploring. Without a destination to make. Or the constant focus on ocean and conditions.

Mussels steamed open

I steam the mussels open but they are a very disappointing size. Out of 18 mussels I get about 3-4 mouthfuls. I stir them into the saute of garlic and onion before adding a small tin of tuna to bulk it up. Then stir in some Ben’s rice. I don’t taste the mussels. But having some fresh protein is a consolation, I guess.

The Whisperlite cooker doing its thing.

After a yummy and filling dinner I prepare for what is shaping up be a stormy night. Tent and tarp stakes are checked and everything is put away in dry bags where possible. Hope I get some sleep!


Wednesday 10 March, 2021 Caswell Sound

That was a rough night. Feels like I was awake for most of it. The tent and tarp took a hammering. Inside, the tent floor is saturated under the air mattress and pillow. Again! I used my microfibre towel a few times during the night to soak up the wet areas and wring it out; outside. Water appears to “wick” through where there is direct pressure on the tent floor and pools in the low points. I am warm and dry though. On top of my air mattress and pillow. But the fringes of my sleeping bag are wet. Where it’s in contact with the floor.

Eventually dawn arrives and I see one corner of the tarp has pulled free. The rain has eased now so I pull on my rain jacket and head out. To re-secure everything. I discover that the tent and tarp have survived the night pretty well really.

The creeks around me are well up but not threatening. I return to my tent at 0830. Soon after, I sense a change outside. It is calm now. But the rain is heavier. A whole different feel.

It continues to rain heavily. I’m motivated now to survey the situation again. There are still no immediate water concerns but decided to do some precautionary diverting of the stream flows. Previously dry creek beds are now flowing. There is likely to be some lag between the heaviest rain and maximum creek flows. I was actually enjoying myself out in the rain!! I was wet from my thighs down but wasn’t cold at all. I got carried away building several small diversions of the water. Away from the general direction of my camp. It became a challenge. Making more, and better diversion improvements. Then improvements on these. After an hour or so working in the rain, I was satisfied that I had significantly reduced the water flow in the direction of my camp.

Drying the gear

The rain eased up and by lunchtime the sun was out in all its glory. And on schedule. Focussed now on drying things out and deploying the solar panel. The sun has really brightened things up. The clothes I’m wearing dry quickly on my skin. I use my spare split paddle to lift the tent floor off the ground to help dry it out. My sleeping bag, air mattress, air pillow and towel are laid out on top of the tarp. I make sure the air mattress will not get blown away, into the bushes, where it could easily puncture. That would be a mini disaster for me. My old body would not handle lying on the hard ground very well these days. Often thought that carrying a spare air mattress would be a good idea.

Well, a miserable start to the day turned out to be a cracker afternoon. I wonder what Shirley Falls would look like today! Another level of magnificent, I expect. By mid afternoon everything is dry and charged. I set about my routine of getting everything ready for an early launch tomorrow. Time to re-focus on the journey.

I reflect again on the fisherman offering me a ride yesterday. How much this adventure is as much a mental challenge; as a physical one. Especially here. It’s remoteness. From any immediate help. You are so self-reliant that you had better make the right decisions. Prudent ones. Mental resilience is crucial. Easy said!

Bottom line ……….. I have shelter and plenty of food and water. I am thankfully healthy and fit. Stay safe and enjoy the adventure. You will never be here again.

Preparing the gnocchi for dinner
My favourite gnocchi dinner is ready
Burning rubbish


Thursday 11 March, 2021 Caswell Sound to Bligh Sound

Distance 46.4km. Time 8.0hrs. Average Speed 5.8km/hr

Up early to decamp and pack under headlamp. A well established routine now for a dawn launch. Things are already laid out ready just outside the tent. My breakfast of muesli is ready. Just add water to my individually vacuum sealed packs of muesli, milk powder and protein powder. Leave it to soak for a few minutes while I pack everything inside the tent. My paddling gear (if dry) is also folded just outside the tent opening and whipped inside when ready to change. When I emerge from the tent I am fully sandfly protected and paddle ready.

There was no rain last night but there’s a heavy dew on the tarp. A cloudless sky at dawn as I easily slip over the boulders and into the Sound. A light offshore breeze greets me at the entrance. A beautiful dawn. Two Thumb Bay and Looking Glass Bay slip by. There is a lumpy sea created by opposing N and SW swells and backwash from the cliffs. But no wind of any concern.

George Sound arrived on time at about the 4.5 hour mark. I’m greeted here by another blue fin tuna work-up. Some big fish jumping clean out of the water. What a spectacular sight. I hope the big fishing fleets never get access to Fiordland.

The entrance to Bligh Sound is another 2 hours away. Looked into an idyllic Catseye Bay along the way. Protected by reefs at its entrance; it looks like an ideal refuge and another stunning area to check out some time.

I considered paddling on to Poison Bay today. Its another 3 hours paddle to its entrance; from Bligh Sound. I txt Shaz to say that that would be my intention if she saw me paddling past Bligh Sound on the inReach tracker. By the time I got to Bligh Sound though; 3 more hours paddle did not appeal today. It would have made a 10+ hour day.

Entering Bligh Sound

Rounded into Bligh Sound and went over to check out the beach on the north side, just inside the entrance. It’s very exposed to swells from the west and south. Although the shore break looked quite small right now, it was low tide and upon closer inspection the beach had a very steep face through the tide zone.

Approaching the beach in Bligh Sound. There is a deer on the beach just above the bow.

Decided to move down the Sound to a safer beach at the bottom of a large valley. And what a spot! Beautiful as can be. Couldn’t take enough photos. There was a deer on the beach as I approached.

Beaut camp in a great looking Sound

I risk camping in an exposed spot; knowing that the forecast is good. To enjoy some great views. And a sunset. On my last solo camp of this adventure. There is a beaut stream adjacent. One of the best spots so far. This Sound is very picturesque with many beaches. Would love to return here some day too!

Nearby stream
Looking up Bligh Sound

Pretty excited to be seeing Shaz at Milford Sound tomorrow and the completion of the paddle through Fiordland. A dream realised with so many good memories and thoughts. Hugely worthwhile adventure but a region not to be taken lightly. Ever! It’s fitting that this beautiful camp is the last on this trip. A perfect evening and night in Fiordland.


Friday 12 March, 2021 Bligh Sound to Milford Sound

Distance 53.2km. Time 10.0hrs Average Speed 5.3km/hr

Another dawn start for a longish day (9.5hrs) on the water today. Well aware that this is the final day of this Fiordland epic.

After a poor sleep, watching the clock all night, I finally rise unnecessarily early, just after 0500, to start the packing down routines by headlamp. Lack of sleep wasn’t a comfort issue as I was on a soft bed of moss. I expect it was anticipation of this final day.

Secala is ready for launch before dawn. At 0645 there is adequate light for a safe launch. Into the safer waters of a Sound.

A soft launch through the boulders at low tide. The usual early morning light breeze is wafting out the Sound. I enjoy the flat water for about 30 minutes before rounding Tommy Point and open waters, as dawn approaches. It’s a beautiful dawn, like yesterday.

I would have loved to stay in Bligh for a couple of days. From what I saw, this is one of the most picturesque of Sounds. Weather dictates everything around here. And so today we must paddle.

Before long I am crossing the wide entrance to Sutherland Sound. The day materialises calm and clear with off shore breezes wafting out the Sounds and Valleys.

As I approach Poison Bay I find myself in another large Blue Fin Tuna work-up. Once again I sit amongst them and enjoy the spectacle. This time I also see what I think is Slender Tuna. These are jumping close enough to me to recognise that they are tuna but like no other that I’m familiar with. Their elongated shape more resembling a very large mackerel but clearly a tuna head with big eyes and beaked mouth.

Poison Bay eventually arrives. It’s slow in coming. There is a tide against me today. And I’m feeling lethargic. More weary than at any other time on this trip. A few nights of average sleep has probably contributed to that. I distract myself by unnecessarily nibbling on my snacks more frequently. And paddling closer to the beach searching for deer. I even start giving myself some positive reinforcement. Out loud! Enjoy every moment; I say. An epic adventure through Fiordland is coming to an end.

Saint Anne Point. Mitre Peak behind with cloud over tops.

When I eventually make the turn into Milford Sound, around Saint Anne Point, there is a satisfied sense of accomplishment and finality. It’s a beautiful day to soak it all up. I rest my paddle to dwell ……. on the challenges, the moments, the amazing places and the people.

Entrance to Milford Sound

I round Fox Point into Anita Bay. A Real Journeys charter boat pulls up and asks where I’ve come from. Passengers are lining the boats rail to gork at the sight below them. I say “Bligh Sound”, to which he seems impressed. There is an ebb flow out of Milford Sound now and I ask the Skipper if its generally a strong flow. He says “Not really”. Not sure how to take that. From a guy on a boat!

Landed at Anita Bay with Fox Point behind.

I pull into Anita Bay, near Greenstone Point, for a snack and a rest. All my snacks on deck are consumed. I dive into the rear compartment for some flat bread and the remaining peanut butter. In sachets. Yum!

Looking up Milford Sound

I pull out of Anita Bay and start making my way up the Sound, keeping a lookout for the day charter boats. A reluctant re-entry into civilisation. By the time I arrive at Dale Point I feel an increasing tail breeze assist. The predictable SW breeze has arrived.

In short order the wind ramps up through the narrow steep sided Sound and I am flying along, hardly needing to paddle at all. I’m grateful. Very grateful. To have an easy ride to finish the day. And the journey. I relax and enjoy probably the most spectacular Sound of them all. On a beautiful day. Mitre Peak is sensational and a backdrop of ice covered mountain ranges at the end of the Sound.

Milford Sound

I hear Shaz calling me VHF as I round the last Point. The end of Milford Sound comes into view. She can’t see me yet though. Shaz says that I need to head down to Deepwater Basin to exit at a boat ramp. There is no public vehicle access to the ferry terminal area.

Deepwater Basin with Shaz at the boat ramp.

And so the Fiordland adventure comes to an end. An epic journey. A dream realised. There are, of course, more adventures to come. But none, I suspect, will surpass this one.

It’s great to see Shaz at the ramp. We load Secala up onto the camper van roof for the first time in 5 weeks. Since Orepuki. A lifetime ago; it seems. In terms of experiences. I can’t believe it’s done. Unbelievable Fiordland!

4. Fiordland – Disappointment Cove to Deep Cove

Thursday, 25 February 2021 Disappointment Cove to Gut Hut (Doubtful Sound)

Up at 0630. No rush to get away today but not dawdling either. Full packet of muesli with coffee. Packed up and cleaned hut. Enjoying the easier transition from a hut onto the water. Rather than from a tent. Launched just after 0800. Hopefully the southerly change yesterday has knocked the stuffing out of the northerly swell that would have ramped over the last few days.

Almost reluctantly I set out from Disappointment Cove. I leave this place too soon. There is so much more to do and explore here. I have fond memories.

Headed out through the Gilbert Islands anticipating some sort of northerly swell. Nothing! There was a NE breeze whipping down Breaksea Sound though. The same that I experienced when I arrived here a few days ago. As I emerged from the lee of Breaksea Island on my left, a moderate SW swell unfurled. Welcome back to the open ocean. Still no significant N swell. Happy days!

The coastline north from here has a daunting look and feel about it. High, imposing, fortress like cliffs extend all the way to Coal Bay. There is a significant swell backwash, keeping me further wide than normal.

The key milestones, and contingency landings today are Coal Bay (2 hours paddle); Dagg Sound (4 hours paddle); and then the iconic Hares Ears and the of the entrance to Doubtful Sound (6.5 hours paddle).

Coal Bay is not recommended for landing as it is a wide open Bay and very vulnerable to prevailing westerly swells.

I reached Coal Bay right on the 2 hour schedule. The coastline towards Dagg Sound alters subtly with continuous cliffs giving way to very steep ravines down to the shoreline. There looks to be the occasional possible landing on the scree. A hard landing probably. Looking for alternative safe landings is just a paddle routine. In case conditions turn. Which is always possible. Even probable; in these parts.

Approaching Dagg Sound. Towing Head Islands on the right. Peninsula Point ahead; on the other side of Dagg Sound entrance.
Entrance to Dagg Sound. Safe camp option at inlet just west of Adieu Point.
Looking directly into Dagg Sound

Crossing Dagg Sound entrance, I came in a little close to Peninsula Point and became very uncomfortable in the backwash. Pushed out for the rounding of Black Point. Or what I thought was Black Point! My judgement of distance is still not the best.

A boat trawling for tuna, I expect, gave me a honk as it passed going in the opposite direction, only a couple of hundred meters away. A nice touch and good to see that I’m seen in the undulating seas. I paddle wave back.

From a distance I didn’t recognise the conspicuous rocks ahead. Eventually I join the dots and verify that, in fact, they are the iconic Hares Ears. Half the problem was that I didn’t expect them so soon. And from my angle of approach they do not take on their most recognised profile. This is however, a terrific highlight for me. These rocks adorn the pages of so many books that I have read. Paddling past them now is a moment to remember. I dwell a little. Soak it up. I come in close to Febrero Point. Close enough for the sandflies to find me! What are they doing this far from the shore?

I’m stoked to be entering Doubtful Sound. It guarantees now, that I will make Deep Cove tomorrow and meet up with Shaz after nearly 3 weeks. And I make it just before a few more days of northerly conditions. Perfect timing.

Gut Hut is still a good 1.5 hours paddle away though. I hug the shoreline to minimise the influence of the ebb tidal flow out of Doubtful. Then cross over to Bauza Island and follow its northern shores from Jamieson Head towards The Gut channel. My destination, Gut Hut, is just on the other side of this narrow channel between Bauza and Secretary Islands.

Entrance to Doubtful Sound. Hares Ear to Gut Hut.

I am not particularly enthusiastic about pulling into a six bunk hut tonight. It is likely to be occupied; or full, given its a small hut. And its very accessible from “civilisation” at Deep Cove. Just before “The Gut” is Grono’s Bay. With waterfalls over the cliffs behind. I have read about this place. And of John Grono, an early pioneer. I pull into the beach to check it out as a possible camp option tonight. On closer inspection I changed my mind. The ground above the high water mark is not ideal. Decided to chance the hut.

View up Doubtful Sound from the beach at Gut Hut.

It actually took me a while for me to locate Gut Hut. I expected it to be visible from the water. It wasn’t. Easily found after checking the TopoMap. Its a nice hut set back in the bush. Some DOC workers are based here while clearing tracks. Good buggers and thankfully room for all of us.

Gut Hut

It’s been a pleasant day on the water today considering the stormy weather we have just had. There were definitely a few rough patches. However the light southerly breeze held. And enjoyed big moments passing the Hares Ears; and rounding Febrero Point into Doubtful. I reflect this evening on what an incredible journey it has been so far.

Opted for an easy freeze dried dinner tonight. Using up old stock. It’s definitely a struggle after enjoying fresh fish and paua through most of the trip.

View up Doubtful Sound from Gut Hut.

Shaz has booked a Real Journeys day tour out of Deep Cove for tomorrow. So she can see me on the water as I paddle towards Deep Cove. I will be returning with her to Manapouri when her tour returns to Deep Cove in the afternoon.


Friday, 26 February 2021 Gut Hut to Deep Cove (Doubtful Sound)

The four DOC workers I shared the hut with last night were good buggers but they talked loudly into the night. While the tired old bugger went to bed. At dusk. As usual. One of the reasons I don’t like huts! Peoples routines and agendas never quite sync with yours.

I’m an early riser though. And so are they. So in that regard, at least, we were in sync. There’s no rush today as its only 4 hours paddle to Deep Cove. Although I know I will have an ebbing tide against me.

It’s darker in the bush so it seems earlier than normal; when I rise. After muesli and coffee I pack up and trundle the gear down the 50m or so to the beach. When I discovered issues with the inReach. It wasn’t activating and my personal settings weren’t there. I didn’t send my usual messages upon launching today. I set the tracker going, so hopefully Shaz will be able to get that.

As soon as I set off I saw a pod of dolphins heading for “The Gut” passage. Two of them on the fringe of the pod peel off to check me out. They swam right under me while I was still in very shallow water.

The major juncture of Doubtful Sound

Not far out from Gut Hut is a major juncture for Doubtful Sound. To the left is Pendulo Reach and Thompson Sound. I will be returning here when I resume my journey to Milford Sound. On my right is First Arm. And ahead is Malaspina Reach leading to Deep Cove.

Malaspina Reach ahead. Thompson Sound on the left and First Arm on the right.

And then my obsession with waterfalls begins as I get deeper into Doubtful Sound.

Got an inReach message from Shaz saying not to rush, so that she could see me on the water. No worries! I’m on a grand waterfall tour.

Elizabeth Island ahead with Deep Cove behind.
Shaz on a Doubtful day tour as I paddle towards Deep Cove

As I approached Elizabeth Island I saw the Real Journeys day tour boat finally emerge from the southern end of Elizabeth Island. I tried several times to contact Shaz on VHF Ch 10 & 16 to no avail. But I see her waving from on deck. I paddle wave back.

Real Journeys day tour. With Shaz on board.

I pulled into Deep Cove and found the Hostel Manager (Billy). Got his blessing to leave Secala tied up on the beach for a few days. All care ……no responsibility; of course.

Deep Cove. Charter boats on the right. Hostel ahead.
Deep Cove beach.

I emptied Secala and laid all the gear out for sorting. Stuff to keep for the next leg to Milford Sound. And stuff that I wouldn’t. Took an inventory of all consumables (eg. insect repellent, food, COFFEE, matches, sunblock, etc); before stowing the “stuff to keep” back into Secala. Secured Secala well to an adjacent tree. Above the HW mark. Just! Skirt put over cockpit. Paddle tied on deck.

Shaz’s tour had returned now and was docking a couple of hundred meters away. Hastily got changed out of my wetsuit and into dry clothes just as the buses rolled up to the Hostel. A well oiled and synchronised daily tour operation won’t be waiting for any random, out of sync kayaker. Ran up the hill with my gear and jumped on the nearest, of two tour buses. As they were rolling out of Deep Cove towards West Arm. Stood in the aisle and called out for Shaz. More efficient than looking through the entire bus. Blank stares. She’s not on this bus.

Real Journeys route across Lake Manapouri

We eventually meet up at the end of the 30 minute bus trip over the Wilmot Passage.

???!@#…f…?**&^”@#!+*(#@ …….. Found this homeless person wandering around Fiordland!

3. Fiordland – Green Islets to Disappointment Cove

Wednesday 17 February Green Islets to Puysegur Landing

Distance 23.0km Time 2.8hrs Average Speed 8.2km/hr

To be frank, this was not a day that I was expecting to paddle. Yesterday’s big winds and seas were not forecast to be that strong until very late ! This threw my confidence of a possible paddle today; expecting the sea conditions, at least, to still be too turbulent. I hadn’t pre-packed last night and was very casual out of bed. 

When I did emerge I saw a light SE and sea conditions looking OK. From the beach. I grabbed the VHF and tried to find a fisherman I could talk to. No boats straight out from the Bay, so strode off to the isthmus to see if I could raise someone through the gap; and confirm the conditions out there.

On the way, in a clearing just off the beach, I stumbled on a hind just 30m away. Her head was down feeding and enjoying the morning sun on her back. She hadn’t detected me yet; so I froze on the spot while she continued feeding. She raised her head in my direction when I made the slightest of movements. But then resumed her feeding. I was in a bit of a hurry now to assess todays paddle opportunity, so moved on and let her find cover within the manuka scrub. An unexpected moment though, inadvertently stumbling across the hind; undetected. And so close. Will never happen again, I’m sure.

On I rush, towards the isthmus and try several times on VHF channels 10 & 16 to raise a fisherman. Any fisherman. Then, to my surprise I got Puysegur Maritime Radio responding to my “All Stations” calls. I requested and received a brief forecast for Puysegur which was “Variable 10kts, slight seas”. And got some motivational words from Lynn (Red) Paterson via my inReach.

Decision made ……. I was going to launch for Puysegur. Again! I was packed and on the water by 0930. Much later than usual. A 2nd farewell to Green Islets. A little rushed this time but no less heartfelt.

Once clear of the confused lumpy water around the Green Islets “headland”, the seas settled. Became more even and predictable. And the paddling became enjoyable for a while at least.

Then my first close encounter; of many, with an albatross. The albatross approached from my starboard quarter. Inclining its huge wingspan towards me, shaping to circle in front. I stop paddling. My attention is fully averted now. As it crossed my bow by only 20 meters, her head turned, levelled; and our eyes locked. At the same height above sea level. For that knowing length of time. I feel an affinity. A kinship. Like we feel towards dolphins. Or whales. When we swim with them. Or make eye contact. There is an exchange ……… of warmth; of empathy; a respect of sorts.

Its huge wing tip is grazing the undulating sea surface. You could tell; as occasionally there is a slight tug on its wing tip feathers. Unbelievable grace and control. The moment passes too quickly. 

Not many get the chance to experience an albatross at their level. At sea level. So close. They exude resilience, control, calm. I feel an emotional bond. And more. I’m not a spiritual person. Normally! 

The winds were slowly increasing now; through from 12kts to 25kts as Long Reef approaches. Gusting higher around Windsor Point, Marshall Rocks and Puysegur Point.

Key geographical points between Green Islets and Puysegur Landing

The ride is gripping at times with Secala sent surfing down some steep faces and occasionally hard bracing when breaking waves shunt the stern in one direction or the other. Looking behind is a little daunting. Focused my attention ahead. Where it should be. It was an intense paddle but well under control. Thankfully. It was a reminder; if I needed one, that this region can serve up these conditions without warning. “Variable 10”; yeah right!”

A fast trip overall, averaging 8.2km/hr. The second half of the ride would have been much quicker. Was happy to round Puysegur Point into the sheltered waters of Otago Retreat; and especially relieved to be making some progress at last.

Puysegur Landing. Secala on the left.

Arrived at Puysegur Landing to a warm welcome by 8 other paddlers who had flown by helicopter into Preservation Inlet the previous day. They gathered around to lift the heavy Secala up the beach and made me a cup of tea. Awesome. Was enjoying some human interaction. For a change. With like minded people. Nice to meet a couple of “young” kayaking pros here, in Bevan Walker and John Lumley.

There was time in the day to push on to Landing Bay but conditions were no better a couple of hours later; so decided to stay here the night. Took the walk out to Puysegur Point; that I had always wanted to do anyway. And quite possibly swayed my decision to stay. The 2 hour return walk was rewarded with spectacular views from this rugged windswept Point. Many photos taken. There is plenty of deer sign along the walk and a fresh deer head is left on an open grass area near the Point.

South tip of Coal Island (middle) marking the west side of the channel to Puysegur Landing. Paddled close by this stretch of Coal Island to enter Otago Retreat.
Puysegur Point walking track
Last stretch of track leading down to Puysegur Point
Old structures at Puysegur Point where a manned lighthouse once stood.
Puysegur Point Lighthouse. Looking NW towards Coal Island (front); then Gulches Head; Chalky Island and Cape Providence (in the distance)
Coal Island (front); Gulches Head (behind); Chalky Island; then Cape Providence. Ref TopoMap below.
My intended track north from Puysegur Landing
Looking south from Puysegur Point towards Marshall Rocks and Windsor Point. Where I had paddled from today. (see TopoMap below)
Key points looking south from Puysegur
Swell breaking over Puysegur Point

It’s a 5 minute walk from the huts at the Landing to get drinkable water from the stream. It’s novel to be in the “luxury” of a hut even though I would be sleeping on the concrete floor tonight, with all the bunks taken. The sandflies are less intense here as I enjoy wandering around without a head net for the first time.

View up Preservation Inlet from Puysegur Landing

A very welcome change of scenery too with fantastic views up the Inlet. I have done plenty of research on this area prior to this trip. The history here is mind boggling and a large part of me wants to dwell in the area and soak it up. There is a tiny cemetery behind the hut of 3 people who had drowned on the same day here back in 1895. Trying to cross over the 1km gap to Coal Island.

Somehow I have formed the opinion that’s it two paddle days from here to Dusky Sound; and this is backed up by Bevan saying that it’s an 11 hour direct paddle to get to Dusky. Which, for me, translates to two paddle days, as I don’t think I can take on an 11 hour day just yet. And even considering such a big day, in these parts, is not a smart idea. With that in mind; I only have one good day tomorrow before NW winds arrive on Friday. Landing Bay is 4 hours paddle away and a natural launch point for Dusky. Do I head for there tomorrow and sit out the northerlies; or hang out here and do some exploring of this historic area while the northerlies play out?

A couple of the paddlers (Vince and Bevan) go diving for paua and crayfish and share their cook up with me later on. Beaut paua fritters.

The evening forecast from Shaz and Chris remains the same. Good tomorrow. Then all bets are off for a few days. I set up my bed on the concrete floor. One of the ladies offers to trade her bunk with my floor. Figuring an old man on an adventure is more deserving. I’m thankful but politely decline. Reflects the type of people they are though. Just good buggers. Retired to bed unsure of my intentions tomorrow.


Thursday 18 February Puysegur Landing to Luncheon Cove

I casually rise and brew a coffee. My air mattress performed well on the concrete floor. As I knew it would.

I wasn’t at all in the headspace to paddle today either. The result of a lack of decision-making last night.

I still figured that I needed two paddle days to get to Dusky Sound. It’s decision time. Do I continue on today to Landing Bay or Newton River? To sit out the northerlies. Or stay at Puysegur Landing to do some exploring. Reality kicks in (eventually!) …….. you just don’t waste good paddle days in these parts.

If I get past Cape Providence, I have only one option to pull out before committing to Dusky Sound. That’s at Newton River just south of West Cape. It’s an OK landing. Apparently. In reasonable conditions.

I re-check the Puysegur to Luncheon Cove (Dusky Sound) route; and by my reckoning it’s actually only 9.5 hours paddle, rather than 11 hours! Why hadn’t I re-checked this before? This makes the prospect of getting to Dusky Sound today much more likely.

I check the forecast from Chris and Shaz again. Today is good. Light southerlies. After that it will be a few days of northerlies. As Chris says “Every mile away from Puysegur is a good mile!”. I immediately prepare to launch. I’m fired up now. The options are Landing Bay (4hrs), Newton River (6hrs) or all the way to Dusky Sound (probably Luncheon Cove 9.5hrs). I will go as far as I can given the conditions and my fitness.

Preparing to leave Puysegur Landing

Again the Puysegur team carry Secala to the waters edge and bid me farewell; as they set off on an exploration of Preservation Inlet. I hope to get that opportunity another day.

I shoot out Otago’s Retreat and; taking Bevan’s advice, aim for the gap between Gulches Head and Balleny Reef. “Stay about 300 to 400 meters off Gulches Head” Bevan says.

Track through Broke-Adrift Passage

It’s fairly lumpy, with the swell bounce back, around the southern tip of Coal Island and up its western side. I head for Broke-adrift Passage which is between Gulches Head and Balleny Reef that extends 4km offshore. By chance I will have the benefit of an ebbing tide for most of the day. I will take every advantage I can in these parts. Gulches Head demarcates Preservation Inlet from Chalky Inlet. This area (Broke-Adrift Passage) has an even more treacherous reputation than Puysegur due to the shoaling and currents that can occur. Carefully threading my way through the Passage; I start what seems a very long haul past Chalky Island and the entrance to Chalky Inlet; towards Cape Providence.

The vast scale of this place continues to mess with my judgement of time and distance. The third dimension now dominates. Where it never has before. I am learning to rely solely on my watch for reliable paddle (distance) estimations.

I have been warned to give Cape Providence a wide berth. There is shoaling for over 4km SW of this Cape. Beyond Gulches Head, setting course for Cape Providence, there is a period of relatively easier paddling as Balleny Reef offers some protection from the SW swell. I am grateful for a light Sly breeze now, that I’m hoping will assist me through the day. Possibly a long day. I seem to be making reasonable progress as landmarks tick by roughly on schedule. Although getting around Cape Providence seems to take forever. A consequence of being further offshore than normal. There is a lot of swell lift around Cape Providence as I set my sights now on West Cape. Eventually passing Cape Providence lighthouse, the paddle becomes smoother as the shoaling recedes closer in to the shoreline. I can now start tracking directly towards West Cape, 2 hours away, easing closer to shore.

West Cape is the westernmost point of New Zealand. Although not recognised with a structure. Like a lighthouse. Like North or East Capes. As a consequence it lacks prominence and is underwhelming; physically. Land or ocean access to this remote place is clearly an issue. There is a clear demarcation at West Cape with the intensity of the weather. My observations over the months prior to this trip is that conditions generally mellow out north of this Cape. And the further north; the better.

Cape Providence to West Cape. A early stretch of coast. Newton River the only refuge.

The wind ramps up a notch as I approach and pass close to West Cape; as it does on all promontories. Newton River is clearly observable just before the Cape and looks like a good landing option if needed. I am still making good time as I pass close by the Cape and apply an easterly increment to my heading for the first time since leaving Orepuki. It’s only about 2 hours paddle to the entrance of Dusky Sound from here. And another hour or so to Luncheon Cove. Luncheon is firmly in my sights now. I am feeling good. I have hydrated and eaten regularly in anticipation of a biggish day. Glad to have brought extra water.

The wind softens and the swell abates a little. My albatross is back. Checking in. I stop paddling. It approaches from the starboard quarter; dips a huge wing and circles close across my bow. We make eye contact. For a knowing length of time………… All is well.

For a while the paddling gets easier as we head for South Point and the entrance to Dusky. There is a fair amount of shoaling in this area to be very wary of. The swell lift keeps you on your toes. The occasional one is breaking. Suddenly and heavily. In the bigger sets. As I start the slow turn into Dusky passing South Point and Fannin Bay, the swell dissipates and ride becomes comfortable again.

With a tail wind I’m on the final leg towards Anchor Island and the Many Islands. When I’m close to where I think Luncheon Cove is, I check in with an anchored yachtie who confirms it is only 100m away.

Entering Luncheon Cove

I enter the historic Cove. There are a couple of yachties anchored here. There’s a guy sitting on the deck of one of them. I sidle up and stop for a chat. A couple of minutes later another guy comes out into the cockpit. With a melodic voice a couple of octaves higher; he invites me on board for dinner. Expressing interest in my trip. I politely decline………. not sure what’s on the desert menu……!

Parked up on the rocks at Luncheon Cove

Just above the Luncheon Cove memorial plaque, I make my camp on the only flat piece of ground nearby. It is late and I’m a little weary but very happy to have left Puysegur, Cape Providence and West Cape behind me. And now that I’m safely in a Sound I should be able to make more unimpeded progress, regardless of the forecast. It feels like the adventure is back on again. At last! And I’m keen to keep up the momentum.

Camp just up from the plaque

Not many sandflies here I notice. The local dive charter vessel Tutoko comes into the Cove for the night with a boat load of divers. The boats deckhand comes over in his rubber inflatable, to have a chat and see if there was anything I needed. He made sure I was in touch with Meri Leask. Meri is centre of gravity in these parts. Another good bugger checking in on folks …… where folks are not usually meant to be!

Once he has gone I realise that the nearby creek is actually dry. I will need to replenish water before the paddle tomorrow.

Camp at Luncheon Cove on only nearby flat ground
Looking down Luncheon Cove just before sunset. Two yachties and a dive charter boat share the Cove.

Friday 19 February Luncheon Cove to Acheron Passage

Distance 21.9km. Time 4.4hrs. Average Speed 5.0km/hr

Woke a little late (just after 7) this morning. The dive charter boat Tutoko took divers on a night dive making quite a racket throughout the very tranquil Cove. With motors, generators and general people noise. That amplifies over water, it seems. And when they finally settled down the birds were just as raucous. Never heard anything like it in the bush. Some sound like strangled cats. Others like squealing pigs. Anchor Island is pest free so there is likely to be birds I’ve never heard before. I wonder if there are kiwi among them.

My aim is to get to Disappointment Cove today. It’s 6 hours away. Up Dusky Sound and inside Resolution Island, through Acheron Passage. Looking forward to an easy and enjoyable paddle. My first off the open seas. But I know the forecast is for increasing NW breezes. These are meant to be building later in the day. Hopefully giving me enough time to get through Acheron Passage.

There is a DOC hut in Disappointment Cove and I’ve been told where to find the key to get in. It would be great to get there to sit out the strong northerlies in relative comfort.

The deckman on the Tutoko checks in with me again this morning. Meri wants confirmation of my details and intentions.

Paddle route through Dusky Sound

I set off on a beaut morning after filling my water containers with the friendly yachtie. With the melodic voice. Very enjoyable and easy paddling through Dusky Sound. Past Stop Island, Passage Islands and across Duck Cove towards Porpoise Point. No swell or shoaling to constantly monitor. Able to relax and take in the surroundings. I stop paddling often, just to enjoy the peace and quiet. I steal up close to sleeping seals that I can reach out and touch with my paddle. Shags and Oyster Catchers stand sentry on their claimed piece of rock. As I enter Acheron Passage, past Passage Point, the northerly breeze becomes evident although only 10kts. I stay close to the Resolution Island side of the Passage to keep away from the white caps in the middle. It’s almost low tide. Mussels cover the rocks within the tidal range. There are even tree branches, that hang in the tidal zone, laden with mussels.

As I work my way up the Passage the NW increases to 15kts. Which is still manageable. The tide is also turning against me now. Winds continue building over the next 30 minutes to 25kts+. The wind is way earlier than I expected. Or maybe I hadn’t factored in enough of the funnelling effect of the narrow steep Passage. I hug the edge of the Passage. Within a paddle length. Progress is slow. The planned 2 hour paddle through Acheron Passage will now at least double. Or more. I look for a contingency plan. It’s still early in the day. The wind could ease up later and allow me to finish. Without exhausting myself.

At the entrance to Wet Jacket Arm (north side) I know there is refuge on the north side, at Muscle Cove. It will have perfect protection from the northerly there but will not have much sun or a good view of the conditions. However on the opposite (south) side of the entrance to Wet Jacket Arm I spot a north facing beach. Worth a look. And a better spot to observe the conditions through the Passage. Either option requires a crossing of Acheron Passage.

The Passage is very choppy now. I commit to crossing it though. My grip tightens on the paddle; leaning forward and hard into the wind. And paddle at an angle making as much progress as possible across the passage; without losing ground downwind.

My pebble beach.

The crossing is OK. The wind is strong but consistent. I land on a beautiful pebble beach. And I see that it has good water and camping options. There is a great view up the Passage to observe prevailing conditions. From here I can assess the opportunity to make the 2 hour dash to Disappointment Cove; hopefully later today. I have a coffee and enjoy the sun for a few hours leaving Secala fully loaded.

Camp set up in Acheron Passage

By 6pm I abandon the opportunity of a launch today. I erect my tent and cook tea. I remember that Bevan had given me a bag of cooked spuds, back at Puysegur Landing. They were in my day hatch and I had forgotten about them. They are a couple of days old now but still look and smell OK! Even though Bevan suggested eating them asap. They fry up well in coconut oil with plenty of salt and pepper.

I check the area around the beach. This would be a fine place to camp even in a strong northerly. There are places further in the bush to pitch a tent, offering more wind protection, if necessary.

It seems the northerlies will be with us until Wednesday or Thursday next week. Another 5 or 6 days! Very happy with my decision to paddle north of the Capes yesterday.

At about 8pm the wind dies off enough to paddle. But too late with remaining daylight. I resolve to try a dawn launch tomorrow. To get to Disappointment Cove. Hopefully before the anticipated stronger northerlies pick up. I will launch without breakfast for this quick 2 hour paddle. I have packed everything I can and set my alarm for 0500.


Saturday 20 February Acheron Passage to Disappointment Cove

It didn’t seem like I had slept at all last night. My mind was focussed on getting to Disappointment Cove. I heard some strong wind gusts play through the trees during the night; that worried me. Checked my watch several times and at 0440hrs decided to just get up. Before the alarm. Under headlamp I pack up inside the tent, change into my wetsuit and apply the usual sandfly defences before emerging. I head to the beach to check conditions. It is nearly high tide and there is only minor lapping on the beach. Good signs. It was thankfully a fine night so the tent and tarp are dry. I pack up Secala under headlamp. Breakfast can wait till I arrive at Disappointment Cove. Like a reward. I put a couple of energy bars in the deck bag, if I need. I sit in Secala ready to push off as soon as first light allows some discrimination between land and water. Don’t need as much light as I would if I were launching through surf. Or a reef.

Off I push and upped my normal paddle stroke rate. It’s only 2 hours. I can afford to lift the heart rate a little. Stretch the arms.

Immediately felt a side on breeze and chop coming down Wet Jacket Arm. A NE to start the day. Fine by me. I get across Wet Jacket Arm entrance and into the lee of Muscle Cove. Still in very low light I passed close to the narrow gap leading through to Muscle Cove. There was a residual light breeze coming down the Passage but nothing to worry about. I’m stoked the northerly hasn’t arrived yet. I should be assisted by an ebbing tide soon. I cross back over to the Resolution Island side of the Passage. Point to point. The shortest route. At near sprint pace. Heading for the point near Occasional Cove. There is still no breeze to be concerned about.

The top of Acheron Passage. Entry Island on the right. Ahead is the entrance to Breaksea Sound and the open sea. Gilbert Islands coming into view to left of entrance.

I get to Occasional Cove while daylight reveals a gloomy morning. Entry Island dominates my view ahead. I know for sure that there was nothing going to stop me reaching Disappointment Cove now. I’m stoked.

I peel off to the left and back off the pace to enjoy sightseeing through the beautiful Gilbert Islands. The fishing and diving would be terrific around here. Or just a couple of good days exploring.

Paddling through the Gilbert Islands

A couple of yachts were coming out of Breaksea Sound early, taking advantage of the NE following breeze. I hope they were heading south.

I ponder doing a circumnavigation of Resolution Island via Goose and Woodhen Coves one day. That would be a wonderful trip. Like many others. There is so much to this place.

More Gilbert Islands
Entering Disappointment Cove

Turned into the protected eastern corner of Disappointment Cove and landed on another idyllic beach. Immediately came across fresh deer tracks in the sand. Within the tide zone. Pretty much an expectation now.

Disappointment Cove! Another unbelievable gem.
Secala tucked around the corner in Disappointment Cove. The DOC hut is 50m up from the beach.

Like Green Islets, mine are the only human prints on the beach. It feels completely remote, isolated and untouched. And it is, mostly. Except there is a DOC hut here. And it is all mine for now.

Two man DOC hut.

I don’t see the DOC hut initially. From the beach. Followed some track markers for about 50 meters to see the hut nestled in some cleared scrub. It’s locked. I thankfully find the key where I was told it would be. I’m looking forward to a real bed tonight and a hut to myself. As long as no DOC staff arrive. Which is unlikely. The hut book indicates that they were here a couple of weeks ago and it seems that it can be months between visits. This is a rarely used hut. This will be a great spot to hunker down during the coming wind and rain.

The small hut has two rooms with a door separating them. The first room is like a lobby for wet gear, boots and storage. And no doubt assists with sandfly control. The second room has 2 foam mattress beds and a gas cooker, insect screens over the two windows, a solar powered LED light and a water tank. Not for drinking.

I unload the gear from Secala and enjoy a breakfast of muesli and coffee. My reward.

DOC hut is in the bush just up from Secala

I head off for a reccie. To fill all my water containers. I will be here a few days. There is a solid stream half way around the beach. The water is clear. For the first time this trip. I continue my walk around the beach and scrub. And check out the rocks at the waters edge. For signs of paua or mussels. There are none. The beach is usually a giveaway if there are shellfish around. And there are none.

On the way round I do my usual gathering of foreign (plastic) objects. That I accumulate for burning. It’s such a shame that these beautiful remote places are not immune to human garbage.

I can’t help noticing a falcon that sounds like it’s in distress. It’s flying around screeching continuously. Then it comes down to ground and hops along the driftwood at the top of the beach. Still screeching. I can’t figure out why (for now).

The northerly wind intensifies into the Cove during the morning. Justifying my early start today. It will be really howling down Acheron Passage now. I won’t be lighting a fire or going fishing today. The up side is fewer sandflies. In areas sheltered from the wind, the sandflies are still horrendous though, just like Green Islets. Which means wearing a head net all day. When outside the hut.

It’s been sunny most of the day. It’s great having a north facing Cove. I manage to charge the power bank and all the devices. Finished the day reading my book and enjoyed a really good Outdoor Gourmet freeze dried dinner. They are so much better than some others on the market.


Sunday, 21 February to Wednesday, 24 February Disappointment Cove

The forecast for the next few days is steadily increasing northerlies from 25kts today to 50kts and 6 meter swells on Tuesday. Although this Cove is exposed to the north there is enough protection to set up camp in the scrub behind the beach. I have the real luxury of a DOC hut though.

After a half ration of muesli with coffee I head down to the beach to check for deer sign and get my pee bottle out of Secala. Last night I had to go outside the hut to pee! Naked! Won’t happen again. Another trait of sandflies I realise. They don’t sleep! Or maybe they take shifts! When humans are around. Maybe Fiordland sandflies are smarter than others. And they have bigger bodies to support their bigger brains………..

There are no deer tracks in the sand this morning. But it is high tide. There are plenty of bluebottle jellyfish washed up on the beach though. The offshore horizon out towards Breaksea Island really looks nasty, but it’s sheltered enough just outside the Cove and inside the Gilbert Islands to go fishing I reckon. Without any bait I ended up tying some flat bread on the hooks with bait elastic. There were some dried up strands of paua left on each hook though. From my previous fishing at Green Islets.

I paddle out the Cove. The water depth drops away to over 200 meters very quickly. But between the Gilbert Islands it’s a more manageable 20-30 meters. With a hand line. Before long I’ve got 2 cod and a pig fish. Enough for 2 good dinners. I think I’m going to like it here. I did a little more exploring of the area before returning to camp. Stevens Cove is adjacent and almost fully enclosed. Except for a small entrance big enough for fishing boats. This Cove must be used as a refuge sometimes; as there are mooring lines attached to trees and out to buoys in the Cove. The clear water reveals a sandy bottom.

After processing the fish, I find a beaut swimming hole in the river for a scrub up. And a change into a fresh set of thermals. I have been using the same set since I left Orepuki! About 2 weeks! Just as well I’m in Fiordland eh! Turned out to be a quick scrub and hair wash in the very cold water. And then the usual ordeal with the sandflies. Returned to the hut for a flatbread snack. The leftover bait. With marmite and a cup of tea.

The falcon is still flying around seemingly in distress. I still haven’t figured out why.

After a lazy afternoon reading; I finish the day with a great dinner of cod and rice cooked in coconut oil and lashings of garlic.

Beaut stream at the head of Disappointment Cove. Is tidal for the first 50 meters.
High tide in the Cove. Breaksea Island outside the Cove.
Looking south towards the stream.

Monday, 22 Feb – Up at dawn. No overnight rain that I heard. 1/2 packet of muesli with coffee. Planning a bush walk today. Will follow a trapline probably.

Unsure if it will rain. Gather up a few things to take on the walk: inReach (for tracking), PLB, water, peanut slab, dried fruit & nuts, survival blanket, rain jacket, rain hat, goPro and repellent in a drybag. Put strapping tape over my toes where my sandals have previously rubbed them raw. I let Shaz know I’m off for a walk and I will have my tracker on.

Set off at about 0800 and follow track markers up a ridge to the south. For about an hour and a half. Working up a bit of a sweat. There was a disappointing level of bird life; just quiet bush in the main. Disappointing for Resolution Island I feel. It’s one of the flagship conservation areas in the country. The hut book notes that a stoat was caught around here in early Feb.

View out to Breaksea Island during trapline walk.

By chance, on my return to the hut I came across two piles of downy feathers only a couple of meters apart. Close by the tree where I first found the falcon in distress. The feathers are obviously of the fledgling. There are a few small feathers clearly with falcon markings amongst the grey downy ones. This is obviously the reason for the falcons behaviour over the last couple of days.

The wind is blowing harder today than any other. It could be another lazy afternoon. Went for another trap line walk. In the other direction. Towards Stevens Cove this time. I attempt some deer stalking but I am generally walking downwind for this walk.

The wind is getting wild as the afternoon rolls on. Keeps the sandflies under control though. A strong surge is rolling into the Cove. I spend the rest of the afternoon reading. A new Jack Reacher book. Perfect!

The forecast continues to indicate that it will be Thursday or Friday before I get away from here. Would like to get to Doubtful in one hit. It will be about a 9 hour paddle to Gut Hut in Doubtful Sound. Then Deep Cove Friday. That would be great. To see Shaz.


Tuesday, 23 Feb – Landlocked another day. Expected though. The storm has really hit overnight. Stronger winds and bigger gusts from the north. Definitely gales out there sending a strong sea surge directly into the Cove. I can see why it got its name. No shelter at all from northerly conditions for boats when it is this strong. But I’m fine in a hut tucked around the corner.

Even though Secala is safely inverted above the beach; I’m concerned enough to move her behind some scrub further from the beach. For protection. Stevens Cove just around the corner would be a great refuge for boats in these conditions though. Camping here in these conditions would also be fine behind some scrub or trees.

The forecast is for a southerly due tomorrow that will hopefully quell the forecast 5 meter northerly swell. The forecast is for a light southerly on Thursday. My target paddle day.

Storm surge coming into the Cove

At 1000hrs there is still very strong winds and intense gusts. No rain yet. Waiting for low tide, to fetch water from the river. The sea surge is pushing right up the river at high water. Low tide is about 1400. I will need to cross the river and walk up the right hand side, at least 100 meters, to be sure of getting fresh water. The left side of the river has steep banks preventing access further up the river.

1400 – The sun is out and the devices are charging. At the river I pull my long johns up over my knees and time a quick crossing between the surging waves. With water bladders refilled; all chores are completed. Huge wind gusts howl through the Cove now. Storm force. 40-50 knots easily. The forecast is accurate. No sandflies now.

Storm gets stronger in the afternoon.

Via inReach I discuss with Shaz the merits of coming into Deep Cove. To replenish supplies and take some ‘time out’ together. Or if it makes more sense to push on to Milford if the weather forecast is too good to miss. If so, I will need a food drop. I tally up my remaining food supplies and figure I have 14 days worth of food left. Without rationing. My food management at Green Islets has really extended my supplies. It’s only 2 paddle days to Deep Cove from here. Three at most. I send Shaz a food and supply list just in case. Shaz has said that Real Journeys can drop my supplies off at Blanket Bay in Doubtful Sound. A good option, if I want to continue up Thompson Sound without deviation.

1600 – Rain has set in. Horizontally! We have all the elements of a storm here now. I might be in a DOC hut with no running water or toilet; but it feels like the Savoy right now.

I have a whole packet of gnocchi tonight. I’m easing up a little on the rationing now that Doubtful is not far away. Shaz’s forecast still looks good for Thursday. The day after tomorrow. It just doesn’t seem likely while a storm is still unfolding here. I will prepare tomorrow for a Thursday launch. I know how quickly conditions can change around here.

My thoughts at the moment are to paddle to Doubtful Sound (Gut Hut) on Thursday. About a 9 hour paddle day. Then on Friday paddle up Doubtful Sound to Deep Cove – only 4 hours. And in time to catch the returning Real Journeys bus and ferry out to Manapouri. Leaving Secala and gear tied up at Deep Cove. For my return.


Wednesday, 24 Feb – Woke pre-dawn and lay in until first light about 0600. Could still hear the wind and the surf pounding in the Cove. Got up to have a half packet of muesli and coffee by headlamp. Opened the last (and 3rd) 200gm packet of coffee this morning. The first two packets have lasted 17 days so I should be right with this one to get me to Doubtful. I only have 2 cups a day when landlocked, at most.

Through the morning the rain backs off to showers. But there is still a strong northerly surge into the Cove. I wonder if conditions will be suitable for a launch tomorrow. I’m expecting and hoping for the forecast SW change some time today. To help flatten the northerly swell. Definitely won’t be a rush to launch until I can assess the conditions. Safety first always. Just like Green Islets; it’s been great to have a place like this to hang out through inclement weather.

Not much on the agenda this morning. I settle down to read more Jack Reacher.

1200 – Still intermittent rain. The wind has died away significantly but it’s still from the north. It’s 1.5 hours after HW and the surge into the Cove is still as big as I’ve seen it. I figure it would even be a challenge to launch off the beach today at HW. There’s a good dump onto these rocks with no break in the sets. If necessary I would take Secala over to the river and launch through the entrance there. It would be easier I reckon.

1400 – Close enough to LW now to cross the river and replenish water supplies for tomorrows paddle. The wind has completely dropped off now leaving a thick blanket of low misty cloud. Visibility isn’t good! Definitely wouldn’t launch in this. The swell surge is still strong in the Cove. Have organised gear and packed all that I can for now.

1600 – Relocated Secala closer to the beach and set her up on deck for the paddle. Full water bladder, deck bag with supplies, correct paddle plans, etc.

The tide is out now and you can see how the sand over the lower portion of the beach has been scoured out by the storm surge. There is only rocks now where sand was a couple of days ago. I made a fire to burn my waste and the beach debris that I had collected. The beach drift wood was so wet, that for the first time I used a little white spirit from my primus to get the fire going. Worked a treat. All plastic beach rubbish gone.

1700 – Had a big feed. Used up a leftover half packet of gnocchi with a full packet of rice and tuna. Getting loose with supplies now. Loading up for big paddle to Doubtful tomorrow …..I hope!


2. Fiordland – Green Islets (8 days)

Tuesday, 09 February – Tuesday, 16th February

Green Islets

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.

Rough outside the Bay. Love a fire! Drying out the wood after a wet night.

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.

The southern end of the beach across the Bay. There is an isthmus linking the islet to the mainland at low tide.

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.

A stunning area. I’m not at all disappointed to be hold up here.

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 direction I’m heading. Tough territory!

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.

Blue cod and paua are plentiful.

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.

The Arch.

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 favourite coffee pose. The Archway Cafe!

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!

High tide at the Archway Cafe
Camp location marked with paua shells.

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.



1. Fiordland – Orepuki to Green Islets

Arrived at Rowallan on the afternoon of Saturday, 6 February, 2021 hoping to launch and kick start the adventure with a short paddle to Port Craig, before a nice two day weather window opens up on Sunday and Monday. That I planned would get me to Puysegur Landing, at least. However, the rough road for our camper van and the high surf conditions played parts in our decision to withdraw back to Orepuki for a launch there tomorrow. This withdrawal and lost time made Puysegur Landing an unlikely destination this weather window.

Colac Bay

The beachside camp site at Orepuki was full (Waitangi Weekend) so we ended up further down the road at Colac Bay for the night.

Sunday 07 February – Orepuki (Monkey Is) to Wairaurahiri River

Distance 40.0km. Time 6h 40m. Speed 6.0km/hr

It’s a grey morning when we arrived at Orepuki Beach (Monkey Island). A freedom camping Irish couple were just leaving their beachside parking spot so we got good beach access to unload Secala and gear. My distant landfall (Sand Hill Point) is indistinguishable on the horizon, 30km away. This will be the longest open water paddle that I have ever taken on; to date. And in the middle of the Bay I will be the furthest (12km) I’ve ever been from any shore, in a sea kayak. All the forecasts are ideal though. A light following SE breeze is predicted in the afternoon. And I will enjoy whatever residual west flowing ebb tide through the Foveaux Strait; for a good portion of the day.

With Shaza’s help Secala is loaded to the gunwales with sufficient food and equipment for 18 days. It’s the heaviest she’s ever been. My previous longest solo trip was 7 days; from Te Araroa down the North Island East Coast; back in April, 2019.

All the usual pre-launch routines and processes kick in …….. PLB in left lifejacket pocket ………. InReach in right lifejacket pocket. VHF; Compass; Maps; Food; Tent; Primus; Fuel; Clothes; Water – check . Insect repellent – CHECK! Then, all too quickly we’re ready. Time to take a breath and realise that this is the moment that we have planned and prepared for well over a year. The launch that will take me towards the most remote and exposed coastline in NZ. It is estimated to take me 7 – 8 paddle days to reach my next rendezvous and resupply with Shaz at Deep Cove, Doubtful Sound. Who knows what part the weather will play?

Packing Secala at Monkey Island (east end of Te Wae Wae Bay)
Te Wae Wae Bay
Sizing up the surf!! And whether I’ll float!!

At the last minute Shaz hands me double ziplocked bags of Christmas cake that I squeeze into the deck bag. A little extra water is required to detach Secala’s bum off the beach now.

Bon Voyage!
Looking across Te Wae Wae Bay towards Sand Hill Point 30km away. Secala on compass course.

After the launch there is the usual paddle wave farewell to Shaz before I turn to look for my landfall heading. It’s usually point to point. Clear and obvious. Or the compass course to find a land feature to aim for. Easy. But this time there is no land, or feature, on my bow. In the direction I need to go. Despite excellent visibility. My landfall is low lying Sand Hill Point, 30km away. Beyond the earths curvature. For now I would rely solely on the compass.

I ease into my paddle rhythm and focus my thoughts on the here and now. I feel the increased drag on Secala’s hull. A little like pushing into the next resistance level at the gym. About 30 minutes into the paddle I realise that I hadn’t checked the fridge. I have left behind the cheese and salami…….

A few of the hundreds of Sooty Shearwaters working the waters that day.

Gradually the cloud lifted and the calm Bay gave way to a very gentle following SE breeze. Occasionally a large SW swell set would roll by, reminding me that we are actually in the Southern Ocean. They were reminiscent of the big rollers I experienced off Ninety Mile Beach. I managed to run right over the top of an unsuspecting shark seemingly resting on the surface. About 2.5m long. Not a midget. It bolted into the blue depths. My advantage of surprise. Need to keep it that way.

As I passed Mid Bay Reef, a recreational fishing boat, with 6 guys on board, came over for a chat. No doubt trying to figure out what a kayak is doing so far off shore! Nice chat but no offer of fish!

Sand Hill Point

Approaching Sand Hill Point I knew I had to make a decision on whether to continue beyond the protected west side of Te Wae Wae Bay. There is a lovely protected beach just east of Sand Hill Point that looked very inviting. Otherwise my destination today would be somewhere along the exposed south coast, probably in the vicinity of Wairaurahiri River, that will certainly be a surf entry. And, more importantly, a surf exit tomorrow. The predicted swell height is only 1.5m from the SW. Which is very tame for this area. I decided to have a look on the west side of Sand Hill Point to assess the surf conditions.

At Sand Hill Point hundreds of Sooty Shearwaters were attending large fish work-ups. As I rounded the Point a local westerly 10kt headwind kicked in for a while but the swell looked low and manageable. It is all lowlands here with native bush right down to the beach. An amazing sandy beach stretches west from Sand Hill Point and there was not too much surf observed here. This sealed my decision to push on and find a suitable landing spot. In fact, beaches pretty much extended all the way to my landing spot. A helicopter flew overhead heading in the direction of Preservation Inlet. I hoisted my paddle to him.

Landed in this protected bay just east of Wairaurahiri River. Looking east towards Sand Hill Point (out of sight).

At a spot that I thought was very close to Wairaurahiri River I came in close to shore to investigate and discovered a very protected Bay just east of the River. After landing on sand at low tide, I decided to stay, even though there wasn’t much room to camp above the high tide line. It would make a rocky bed tonight.

My introduction to Fiordland sandflies has now begun. I figured these sandflies hadn’t tasted human, in these parts, for some time. They had a few mates. They figured there was plenty of me to go round. The sandfly battle had begun. Decided I needed to mount some sort of defence. Some resistance or fortification. I can’t start our relationship with a whimper. I made a fire and stood in the smoke to get changed into dry clobber. I try to keep the smoke over my torso; not my head. I cough and splutter a little; but it’s worth it. The sandflies are largely kept at bay. I figure I win a points victory this round! There will be many more rounds to come. They are not going anywhere. And nor am I.

My next concern was fresh water. I needed to replenish my supply here. Or I would have to pull in somewhere along the way tomorrow. I wouldn’t get a full days paddle in with the water I had left. There was no obvious stream or creek nearby but I found a trickle of brackish water coming off an adjacent cliff. It tasted fine. Happy now that tomorrows paddle was sorted.

Set up camp above the HW mark! Sandfly fire in foreground.
A bed of rocks!

Have slept on a rocky base before; so knew my Sea to Summit sleeping mat would do the job.

While setting up camp, the helicopter was returning down the coast but this time very very low. Maybe 30m above the water and 200m off the beach. I expect he was on the lookout for me.

Sand Hill Point can just be seen in the distance.
Wairaurahiri River is a mile or so beyond this point

The first day of this South Island adventure. And all is well. Conditions are great; but that will not remain. Not in these parts. Every day paddled though, every mile achieved, is a mile that will probably never be seen again. Enjoy!


Monday 08 February – Wairaurahiri to Green Islets

Distance 36.0km Time 6.2hrs Speed 5.8km/hr

Had a pretty reasonable nights sleep on the rocks. Can’t complain. The main disturbance was the high tide dumping surf on the rocks/boulders only a few meters away! Rose pre-dawn at 0500 to have my muesli breakie and pack up inside the tent by headlamp. Good to see the surf hadn’t changed overnight, despite the racket last night suggesting otherwise. Packed down Secala at first light and slipped easily through a small surf.

It’s another gloomy grey start to the day. But the sea is settled and the paddling easy. Settling into the day I get a real sense now of the remoteness and vast proportions of this place. It could easily be overwhelming. I snap out of it. Focus on the here and now. And what I can see. And control. There is more of a demand for contingencies, in these parts. An escape plan. As many as possible. In case conditions take a turn.

Today’s target destinations are either Green Islets (6hrs paddle) or Gates Harbour (8 hrs paddle). Both are selected for the all round protection they offer. From the adverse conditions expected from tomorrow. The obvious escape options today are Knife and Steel Harbour and Big River. During the paddle casual and continuous observations are made of other possible landings. If needed.

Coastline between Wairaurahiri River and Green Islets

Where I end up today is where I will be hunkering down for a few days. Northerly gales are forecast for Puysegur.

I exit my calm Bay and round the corner to see a good sized bar and surf at the entrance to Wairaurahiri River. I’m even more pleased with decision to stay on my rocky beach last night. Long Point is the next prominent landmark. It looks a looong way off, yet by my reckoning less than 2hrs paddle away. My distance estimation, by observation, is a long way out.

Long Point demands respect. It has a lighthouse. For a reason. Rocks and shoals protect its shoreline forcing punters out wide. Green Islets is clear on the distant horizon as the next waypoint. Instead I cut in towards the shore to try and get a closer look at Knife and Steel Harbour. I find it; but observe many shoaling areas of turbulence and upwelling. The bigger swell sets break heavily over some. I get caught too close over one shoaling area and have to quickly turn to face an on-coming, and rapidly growing wall of water. The heart rate ramps in sync with the bow. Several paddle strokes up the face. Near vertical but safely over. A timely reminder. I retreat to deeper waters with my tail slapped.

The topography is becoming more significant. The land is growing now. Vertically.

Something breaches the water behind me and slaps back through the surface to jolt me back to the present. It sounds like a full breach as there is a time lag between the exit splash and the slap of re-entry. Maybe something after some little penguins that I saw moments earlier. I look for the telltale signs of dolphins, orca or whales. I don’t see or hear any. I’m left with my imagination. I’m more alert now and watchful of my surroundings. And I lift the paddle stroke rate just a tad. Create distance between me and whatever it was. I know it’s futile to out run anything out here. But it’s all I can do …… and doing it helps.

I enjoy the last of Shaza’s Christmas cake that has survived in its double ziplock bags. From now on my nourishment on the water will consist of Em’s Power cookies, nuts, dried fruit or a peanut slab. If I’m deserving! Would have enjoyed some cheese and salami …………..

A light rain now accompanies a light offshore NE breeze. Big River is the next conspicuous landmark adjacent to Prices Harbour. There are large rocky outcrops standing sentry at it’s entrance. The NE funnels down the Big River valley to give me a nice little assist on my starboard quarter; on the final approach to Green Islets.

Green Islets arrives and it’s stunningly beautiful. I weave through the cray pots, reefs and shoals on a smooth readable surface.

I land on a SE facing beach with ripples lapping the shoreline. The beach has vertical cliffs shrouding it from the SSW clockwise all the way round to the NE. Cosy, safe, stunning.

Looking back east. The point at Big River can be seem through the arch.

A transition takes place at the end of the paddle day. Ocean to land. Where to camp? Flat, relatively high ground is important. Above the tidal zone – crucial. Wind protection – desirable. Soft base for tent – optional, but nice. For an old fella. And where is the water supply?

But first, immediately before landing, the sand fly defences go up. I keep my head net and repellent in the cockpit. For quick access. First the hat and buff come off. Head net goes on with buff pulled over the top. Snug around the neck. Repellent is pumped onto hands and wiped all over the head net. Hat goes on. More repellent onto hands and wiped all over the remaining exposed skin – the wrists and hands. Good to head ashore now. And hope it’s not a wet landing.

Camped amongst the pungas about 5m from the top of the beach. Prepared now for a few rough days.

The camp site pretty much ticked all the boxes, although there was light rain while setting up the tarp and tent. Tarp first. Erect tent under the tarp and move into position. Bring all dry bags under the tarp. Get changed by the fire. Make a coffee.

The most consistent water supply is found just beyond the arch about 300m away. It’s just a trickle, but the rain is coming.

Once the fire is made, the camp is complete!

Can’t complain! Got my 2 paddle days in before the expected northerly blast takes over. Glad with decisions to bring an additional Goalzero battery bank for charging the devices and with my MSR pocket rocket for a quick coffee.

Secala well above the high tide zone.

Finishing each paddle day earlier in the day, after a 6 to 8hr paddle is part of the general plan. Ideally! To set up camp. Find water. And have a wander. To enjoy the journey. So far, so good.