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 ReachTurning 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 SoundNavigating through the channel on an ebbing tide. Styles Island on the left.Coming out of the channel into Caswell SoundCaswell 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 CaswellCaswell 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 gearLooking 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 aboveShirley 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 dinnerMy favourite gnocchi dinner is readyBurning 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 streamLooking 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 Soundto 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!
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 Hutto 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!
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 trackLast stretch of track leading down to Puysegur PointOld 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 LandingLooking south from Puysegur Point towards Marshall Rocks and Windsor Point. Where I had paddled from today. (see TopoMap below)Key points looking south from PuysegurSwell 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 groundLooking 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 IslandsEntering 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, 24Feb – 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!
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 CafeCamp 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.
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 BaySizing 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.
