Fiordland

One of the hundreds of single-lane bridges in New Zealand

 It wasn’t too far of a drive from our campsite at Lake Monowai to the small village of Manapouri that sits at the eastern edge of Lake Manapouri.  We inquired about cruises to Doubtful Sound but they were well outside our budget so we drove on to Te Anau, about 20 kilometers to the north.  There we pulled into a Department of Conservation (DOC) information center and talked with one of their staff.  The woman we spoke with said that there really isn’t much of a choice but to go on the cruise we had just recently dismissed.  She also pointed out some campsites and hikes nearby but was pretty adamant that we had to take the Doubtful Sound cruise.  We picnicked right there and talked about our options, then drove back to Manapouri.  A holiday park was at the north end of the village so we pulled in and very slowly drove through.  It was different from most holiday parks as there weren’t specific areas for tents, motorhomes, etc – you could pretty much just pitch your tent wherever you wanted.

There were several people checking in at the same time so I patiently waited my turn in the lobby.  Most holiday parks have some method of restricting how long your hot showers can be – some use an automatic timer, some even use a keypad where you enter a code you’re given when you check in.  At this holiday park, there’s a row of numbered switches above the sinks in the bathrooms that correspond to the numbered shower stalls.  You push the button of the shower you’re going to use and you get hot water for seven minutes.  Joelle, the 78 year-old ex-pat from San Francisco who has lived in New Zealand for the last forty years, was explaining this to a Dutch man but, for some reason, she was speaking in German.  “Did you understand what I just said,” Joelle asked in English.  “Yes,” replied the Dutch man in pretty good English,  “I go into the bathroom, face the sinks and shout ‘Hot water for seven minutes!’”

The late afternoon was warm and sunny but it made the communal kitchen hot.  Couples and families from all over the world visit New Zealand and the gathering that evening was a typical mix of travelers trying to get through their evening meal.  If I was smarter, I would have bought spaghetti sauce but, no, I had to make mine from scratch, which took too long.  Finally, our meal consumed and cleaned up, we headed back to our tent as we had chosen an early morning departure for a cruise down Doubtful Sound.

Note the Fuel Rate

The sound of our alarm clock the next morning at 0530 wove it’s way into my dreams but it didn’t take me long to get up to the communal kitchen and get my coffee and Ruthie’s tea brewed.  Daylight was just breaking as the bus from the cruise line picked us up at the holiday park and dropped us off at the terminal.  Within a few minutes we were pulling away from the dock on a brand new ship (less than 260 hours on the twin MAN V12 turbocharged diesels), steaming at 22 knots for the west end of Lake Manapouri.  Forty-five minutes later, we reached the other end and we boarded modern tour buses that took us to the headwaters of Doubtful Sound.  Here we boarded yet another very modern, comfortable ship and again pulled away from the dock as the clouds were just pouring over the tops of the tall peaks that surrounded us.

It was light enough now to see that the day was going to be partly cloudy and there were large shafts of sunlight illuminating the sheer cliffs while other areas remained dark.  The running commentary told us that Doubtful Sound was not really a ‘sound’ at all but rather a fiord as it was caused by glacier activity.  When Captain James Cook sailed by in 1770, he wasn’t convinced that it would be a harbor at all so he wrote a note on the chart he was drawing that said ‘Doubtful’ and never did enter it. 

We slowly cruised to the opening of the fiord and the Tasman Sea, the cliffs towering 4,000 feet above us.  The enormity was not lost on us.  On our return, the captain drove us up Crooked Arm to a beautiful, remote spot.  At this point he shut down the engines and generators and the commentator asked everyone to be silent for a few moments – no photographs, no walking around – just silence.  At first I thought it was kind of corny but I was instantly grateful and appreciated the marvel and magnitude.  I could see why Doubtful Sound’s nickname is the ‘Sound of Silence’.

Crooked Arm

With over seven meters of annual rainfall, fresh water abounds in the form of waterfalls, streams and creeks.  It also keeps Lake Manapouri very full so in the early 1960s, it was decided to dam up the lake, allow it to rise 30 meters and put in a hydroelectric power station.  The people of New Zealand strongly opposed the proposition so the dam idea was abandoned but a power station was still built.  A team of 5,000 men worked for years, essentially drilling through rock by hand.  A two kilometer-long tunnel was built as part of the hydroelectric station and our tour bus took us all the way to the viewing platform where we could see the seven massive turbines working.  The station generates over 500 megawatts of electricity.

Manapouri Power Station

The next day I was in a store in Te Anau, chatting with a clerk.  “I don’t know why you came to New Zealand,” she said when she found out I was from California, “you’ve got everything in North America that we have here except that it’s bigger and better there.”  To a point, she was right but our trip up Doubtful Sound was unlike anything I had ever seen and clearly one of the most spectacular places I have ever visited.

New Zealand's South Island, Continued

The View From Our Room On Stewart Island

Our ferry was met by Robin, the manager of the Bay Motel, where we would spend the next two nights. He drove us and the four other guests that had sailed over with us around the microscopic town of Oban, home to 340 full-time residents and up to 40,000 visitors in any given year. Robin pointed out the restaurants to avoid and gave us advice on which tours were worthwhile. Our room turned out to be a sumptuous affair, especially when compared to the cramped quarters of our tent and the view of the bay from our room was nothing short of the ultimate picture postcard of a small, calm fishing village. New Zealand, as an island nation, lays claim to quite a few other islands, Stewart Island being one of them and the nation's third largest. It's roughly the same land mass as the country of Singapore but unlike Singapore, 85% is a wildlife reserve. The small town of Oban is one of the most southerly towns in the world and Antarctica isn't that far away.

Once settled, we began to walk around. Our first stop was at the Department of Conservation's information center, which was just a few steps from our room. A very helpful woman told us about what we could expect to see - the only problem being was that everything on her list of 'must see' places and things involved hiring a guide or boat, which was all outrageously expensive. In the end, we just went on hikes around the village and didn't see anything that we couldn't have seen on the North or South Island. We were glad we went but it holds no magical memories of the rare bird or unique geographical formations and, on top of that, it did consume a significant percentage of our travel budget.

Invercargill Was Burt Munroe's Home - The World's Fastest Indian

Once back across to the South Island, we pitched our tent at a holiday park right in the middle of the town of Invercargill. We walked from there to a pizza restaurant where we met our friend Bob on the MacGregor 65, Braveheart, which is currently tied up at Marsden Point. It was fun to connect with him as he 'jumped' from Mexico around the same time we did. He had driven down the west side of the South Island and we listened closely to his experiences, especially those where he encountered New Zealand's most vicious bird of prey, the dreaded Sand Fly.

Monowai Lake

It was raining the next morning was we broke camp and that was depressing. There's no way to dry out the things that are wet and no way to keep the things that are dry from getting wet. On our way out of town we stopped at a Starbucks but their coffee wasn't as good as we remembered it from the States. As we arced around the southwestern corner of the Island, we gradually picked up a northerly course towards the famous Fiordland and Southern Alps. Our guide book told us of a campsite 17 kilometers down a dirt road so we decided to check it out. With a tall cloud of dust coming up from the back of our minivan, we found our way to the south end of Monowai Lake and a charming little campsite. Even though it was as primitive as any campsite could be, we kind of felt like we had hit the jackpot as it had almost everything we wanted: No one around, right beside a beautiful lake, a flat spot for our tent and it was quiet. That afternoon gave us a good hike, later an excellent dinner and it was followed by a peaceful night's sleep. We had another nice, short hike in the morning with steaming cups of coffee in our hands as we watched the mist rise off the lake's surface. Breaking camp once more and heading out, this time towards our entrance to Fiordland.

New Zealand's South Island

We have been driving and camping around the South Island for almost two weeks now and since we've checked into a 'civilized' room, I can find no excuses for avoiding a posting. Right now we're in a 'Holiday Park' in Hokitika on the west coast and just about exactly opposite of Christchurch. I could write for a long time about Holiday Parks but I think I'll save that for another post when there's nothing else going on.

Cloudy Bay Winery

We caught an early morning ferry from Wellington and even though the wind was blowing at about thirty knots, our crossing to Picton was relatively calm and our excitement was almost palpable. From there we drove to Nelson along the most twisting road I've ever been on and rendezvoused with our friends, Michael and Gloria, on their beautiful Beneteau 50 Paikia Mist. We spent two nights as their guests on board and got a great tour of the town. Departing from there at the crack of 10:30 or so had us following the road back towards the east side of the island and the area called Marlborough - more specifically the famous wine-producing town of Blenheim. Years ago during one of our bashes up the west coast of Baja, we 'buddy boated' with a 56' Nordhavn trawler called Cloudy Bay which also turns out to be the name of a well-known New Zealand winery. I had suspected that the owners of the boat had once owned the winery and sold it, using the profits to buy a luxury yacht. That became our first stop of our wine-tasting tour but there was no connection between the winery and our buddy's boat. Regardless, we languished in the lavish wine tasting room, sampling every kind of wine they make and enjoying every drop. By this time we were feeling quite happy and with a devil-may-care attitude we purchased several bottles that were well outside of our meager budget. We asked the very kind woman who was helping us to recommend some other vineyards and we sampled more delicious wine and bought still more bottles, including a wonderful dry rose.

A Minaret Moved to the Ground Until It's Building Can Be Stabilized - Christchurch

 
With great reluctance, we moved on and pointed the bow of our trusty Toyota towards Christchurch. It turned out to be a long drive and we finally picked out a holiday park near the coast but still a few miles from town. As holiday parks go, it was a little more basic than most but it had a nice grass area on which to pitch our tent. Almost all of the camper sites were occupied and in a conversation that took place the next morning at the communal kitchen, we found out that most of the people living in those campers were the displaced residents from Christchurch's massive earthquake just a year before. Whereas we had planned to spend a full day visiting Christchurch we only spent a couple of hours as most of the places the guide books spoke of were in the city's 'Red Zone' and no access was possible. It was sad. Instead we drove out to Akaroa, a small town on the end of the Banks Peninsula that was supposed to be 'charming' but there were two cruise ships in town that day and it struck us as more of a zoo than a quaint seafaring town. We instructed our GPS to find us the closest campground and it directed us to a wind-blown spit of land on the south end of Lake Ellesmere: Hidden behind acres of farmland, this has been the most remote and primitive site at which we've camped - no only was it free but there was no one around for miles.

Remote Campsite at Lake Ellesmere

Train Station in Dunedin

Our next stop, apart from a brief single-malt-scotch tasting in Oamaru, was the university town of Dunedin and we thought we had lucked out by getting the best spot on which to pitch our tent at the holiday park only to find out that we were just a few meters from a busy road that carried traffic all night long. Other than that, we thoroughly enjoyed the town with it's rococo architecture, the Speight's Brewery and the Cadbury Chocolate Factory. We also toured the local museum and strolled through the university's campus, our first time at being on a college campus in a long time. Still, we found more than enough to do to keep us busy for two nights (despite being camped next to the road) but after that we were glad to get underway again and continue our trek south.

The Captain Let Me Dock the Ferry - just kidding!

We found our way through Invercargill and on to the small town of Bluff where we pitched our tent in a very nice community campground. We broke camp early the next morning, packed what we would need for two days, put our van in a secure parking lot and boarded a ferry to Stewart Island. Since there were only a few passengers on the ferry at that early hour, I engaged the skipper in a conversation: 'You must see some pretty rough weather on this route.' It's not uncommon to see sixty knots of wind. 'At what point do you cancel the trip?' We don't sail if the seas are more than six meters (19 feet).. 'Do the windshield wipers ever have trouble keeping up?' Sometimes you can't see a thing . . .. However, on our crossing the sea was as calm as one could ask for, especially considering that the Pacific Ocean, the Tasman Sea and the Southern Ocean all meet at this spot.

Wellington, New Zealand

 Not all i-Sites were this cute

The documentation available to tourists in New Zealand is nothing short of amazing. In addition to that, almost every town, regardless of size, has an i-site - a comprehensive store front that is staffed with knowledgeable people, computers, brochures and guides - all of it for free. Some even sell souvenirs. The staff will make reservations on your behalf, answer questions, offer recommendations or even check the weather for you. One of the guides we picked up has a list of all the campgrounds in New Zealand and we were pleased to find there was a place to camp right in downtown Wellington.

Randy and Jenny of S/V Mystic

We found Rowena's Backpacker's Hostel without any trouble and I realized that it had been many years since I had stayed in a place like Rowena's. In fact, I don't think I had ever stayed in a place like Rowena's. Almost looking like an huge, old, run-down home, it sets behind another house and is accessed by a narrow alley that runs up the steep hill. In the very back is a small patch of grass where they allow tents to be pitched. It's almost like camping in someone's backyard. There must be forty rooms in the building, with either 2, 4 or 6 people to a room. The toilets and showers are unisex and the kitchen is communal. Our first night there we were checking out the kitchen and we ran into some friends that had crossed the Pacific the same time we did. It was great to see them and we spent a lot of time swapping stories.

Botanic Garden, Wellington

Te Papa Museum, Wellington

Yesterday we took in the Museum of New Zealand and then got fish and chips at a popular pub. Today we walked from Rowena's through downtown and it had been a long time since we walked through a major urban city on a Monday morning. There were thick crowds everywhere, the espresso bars were all packed and the traffic jamming. We took Wellington's only cable car up to the botanical gardens. It was a beautiful day and the flowers were spectacular. The path wound it's way through forests, gardens and herbs. The trail ended at the Norfolk Rose Garden, which has who-knows-how-many varieties of roses but virtually all of them in full bloom. Right next to the rose garden is Anderson Park.

Normally, a cricket park wouldn't attract too much attention from us except there were dozens of American flags attached to the chain link fence and loud rock 'n roll coming from a loudspeaker. We wandered in and were greeted by a woman who works for the American embassy who said that this was an event to welcome the American rugby team. She invited us to stay for sausages and soft drinks as the team was due to arrive in just a few minutes. There were only about thirty or so people milling about but the place was decorated festively with bunting and flags. There were a bunch of brand new rugby balls lying around and I picked one up and began to toss it around as if it were a football.

American Olympic Rugby Team

Just before the rugby team arrived, a group of attractive young women dressed in red, white and blue sparkling skimpy costumes showed up. Just as the team's vans drove on to the field, the girls in costume broke into a cheer. Frankly, it was a little pathetic but it wasn't their fault - they had obviously missed out on the training they needed. Regardless, the American World Rugby Cup Team climbed out of their vans and assembled in some sort of order. A man wearing a sports coat and an American Rugby baseball cap began to speak into a microphone. His name is David Huebner.

David Huebner is the American ambassador to New Zealand. After he introduced the team's coach (who said very little), he asked the attractive cheer leaders to do another cheer and they did the same one they had done earlier. I guess there was supposed to be more fanfare, more people, more excitement but there was very little. It appeared that it was over as soon as it had started. Ambassador Huebner was walking by me and I said, "Uh, Mr. Ambassador? I'd like to introduce myself . . .". Ruthie and I engaged him for somewhere between five and ten minutes, talking mostly about the South Island and New Zealand wines (he said that most New Zealand wineries are owned by Americans). He was very gracious and didn't appear to be hurried. We exchanged cards. As it turns out, he was the first openly gay ambassador appointed by President Obama and only the third openly gay ambassador in US history. As we were leaving the field (my brand new rugby ball signed by all of the American rugby team under my arm) we noticed the stretch BMW with the two Americam flags mounted on the front fenders and the two very large bodyguards waiting patiently behind the building.

From there we walked to the New Zealand House of Representatives but we had missed the tour. We walked back to Rowena's via the waterfront, stopping for a beer on the way. I have fallen in love with yet another New Zealand city.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing, Continued

(Editor's Note: I can't figure out how to add to my previous post using my iPad. Please forgive my technical ignorance.)

 Mount Tongariro

It was cold and dark when the alarm on our cell phone went off at 0500. I trundled up to the toilets and came back, shivering and huddling over the little space heater in the cabin. I made coffee for me and tea for Ruthie using our single-burner camp stove in the cabin. It was just getting light outside as we made our way up to the bus stop, all our gear and food stuffed into our cheap and funky knapsacks. The other hikers and we stood around, stomping at the ground as we waited for the bus. No one spoke as the modern bus drove down the highway towards our drop off point. The clouds around the base of Mount Tongariro were glowing pink with the first rays of the morning sun but the top of the peak was cloud-free, allowing us a good view of the snow-covered top.

Trail Head

 

Usually the Holiday Park only has one shuttle per day, however, the Crossing had been closed the previous day due to bad weather and so were two days worth of hikers on this Saturday. Add to that a three-day weekend (Auckland Day on Monday) plus a summer weekend and the number of people making this famous New Zealand Great Walk was in the hundreds. At the drop off point the driver gave us some final instructions: Expect winds of 60 kph at the top with below freezing temperatures. Don't turn around and try to come back from where you've come - you'll be walking into the wind. The last bus is at 1630 - that gives you ten hours to cover twenty kilometers and a 1,000 meters of elevation gain.

The wind was calm as we started up the trail which was quite flat at first. Because this is a relatively active volcanic area, there are no trees and only the sparsest of vegetation. Even though I was was walking, I struggled to stay warm as we were still in the shadows of the ridges we had yet to climb. After about four kilometers, we approached the first steep section of the hike. Like many of the hiking trails in New Zealand, someone had gone through tremendous time and expense to install well-made wooden steps to get the hikers through the steep parts. By the time we reached the top of the ridge, I had stripped down to just my t-shirt and jeans but was forced to bundle up immediately once we stopped for a break. From there, we walked across the crater of a dormant volcano, the flat, smooth ground a welcome respite from the steep stairs.

The View from Red Crater of Mt. Ngauruhoe

Mt. Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies

Now we faced the second steep part but this time there were no stairs. The wind had started to fill in and it seemed to be getting colder despite the fact that there was bright sunshine. In places the path narrowed to just a few inches wide and I was forced to take my frozen hands out of my jacket pockets in order to hold on to the rocks as we climbed up the ridge to Red Crater - a bad slip here could have spelled disaster. The going was slow and the howling wind made my nose run continuously. We both had to take frequent stops but we finally made it to the precarious top where we had spectacular views of the mountains that were used in the Lord of the Rings movies. As we started back down, we got an excellent birds-eye view of the bright green Emerald Lakes with the steam from geothermal vents rising from their edges. Although it was only 10 in the morning, we stopped for lunch of salami, cheese, nuts and dried fruit. We each drank a liter of water.

Emerald Lakes with steam from geothermal vents

The balance of the trip was far less exciting or arduous but we didn't get to the pickup location until about 2 in the afternoon even though we walked steadily with few rest stops. One group of young people who made the crossing with us applauded when they saw us finish. I think they were privately worried that they were going to have to go back up and carry us out of there. "You didn't think us old folks were going to make it!" I said to their cheers. Our bus back to the Holiday Park arrived on time and our fellow hikers were far more animated on the way back even though everyone was exhausted. Ruthie fell asleep at 7pm and I was in bed not much later.

I got some great photos but I'll have to wait to post them until I can get to a regular computer as it's not possible to do from the iPad.

Tongariro Alpine Crossing

 Huka Falls

As our trusty minivan takes us southward through the North Island in New Zealand, we continually garner new appreciations for this island country. The main north-south road is often just two lanes as multiple lanes in each direction are unnecessary - although they still call it a 'motorway'. Mostly we're on secondary and tertiary roads while many of the best campgrounds are found after a long drive down a dirt road.  A couple of days ago, State Highway 1 took us to Taupo, a small town at the north end of Lake Taupo, the country's largest lake. The Waikato River drains off the huge lake and one of the first things it does is creating Huka Falls. Here the river runs deep and narrow, forcing huge quantities of water through a natural rock sluice box. The rumbling it makes shakes the ground.

Late that afternoon, we found a Holiday Park (something like a KOA) just outside of town, barbecued hamburgers stuffed with blue cheese and tried to get some sleep in our little tent. Even though our neighbors a few feet away tried to keep quiet, it was a lot noisier than we were used to.

 Our Cabin at Discovery Lodge in Whakapapa

The following day we drove south again and this time found a Holiday Park in the Tongariro National Park. However, the weather was lousy with rain and cold so instead of pitching our tent, we chose to rent a small cabin - I mean very small as there isn't room for much besides the double bed. Toilets, showers and kitchen facilities are about a 100 meters away. The other argument for a room instead of the tent is that we decided to take advantage of the Holiday Park's service of shuttling guests to the start of the Tongariro Alpine Crossing - the bus leaves at 6:15am.

Sorry, folks, I'll have to finish this later. The iPad's battery is almost dead and there's only one outlet in the room. Right now the space heater is connected to that one outlet and Ruthie won't let me unplug it!

Sweet Home Away From Home

New Zealand Summer Attire

After six short holiday weeks in the U.S., I am back in New Zealand!  I had a wonderful stay in California and zigzagged from socal to norcal by car and plane.  My first thought?  How could it take just twelve hours of flying over the Pacific to cross the blue water that took us a year to sail through?   As we say…. Nothing goes to weather like a 747!  Really though, twelve hours was not long enough to prepare me (after living in small, third world villages for a year) for navigating the security lines in LAX at 6:00 a.m.  There were more people in that line, at that time of the morning, than I had been with in one place in over a year!

My second thought?  The livin’ in the U.S. is easy!  The stores have everything and anything you could possibly want!  Choices are overwhelming!  Traveling to any destination you want  is easy!  The internet is fast!  The streets are big.  The houses are big.  The stores are big and bright. Restaurants are everywhere! Schools and colleges are everywhere.  Access to information is easy.  Life is fast.  People are on the street day and night.  People are out and about every day of the week.  No rest on Sundays!

The funny thing?  After just a couple of days, I was right back in to life in  the U.S.A. fast lane, just as if I had never spent the last year traveling at six knots per hour!  I was driving 80 mph on the freeway cursing people that were going too slow!  Crazy!  What did I learn?  That the human species is very flexible!  We do what needs to be done!  We can adapt at will and as necessary.  Oh yes, and that there is No Place Like Home!

OK- back to the New Zealand summer- which is certainly colder than the San Diego winter!  Our first order of business was to order a flat white and shop the after Christmas sales for camping and tramping gear.  We are now prepared for freedom camping as well as Holiday Parks.  Since we haven’t camped in a long time, we figure we better do some practice camping before we set off into the wilds of the south island (believe it or not, life on Rutea is a step up from camping!).  That way, if our shopping list was optimistically short, we can hit up a camping store or a five star hotel in Auckland (don’t tell Neal I said that) to get appropriately prepared.  (I take back what I said about being totally adaptable..)

In the mean time, we are waiting for the evening high tide so we can motor down the river (without running aground) to Mcleod Bay where we will anchor off of a sand bar (Mac Donald Bank-in the middle of the bay) which will dry at low tide tomorrow noon and host an anniversary party for our Kiwi friends, Blue Moon.  Good thing the sun doesn’t set until 9:00 p.m.  Good thing it is not raining… yet…

Neal spent December working on Rutea and has the boat looking spotless!  He prepared a rack of lamb for my return dinner and bought champagne!  Rutea looks and feels like every bit of home that Orchard Avenue exudes.  Of course I am readjusting my spatial requirements, walking to the heads for showers and laundry and slowing back down to one or two projects a day, but this is also home.  I take my tea in the cockpit every morning and watch a flock of ducklings paddle by.  The river bank is lined with kids and Dad’s with fishing poles.  Cruiser friends stop by for boat project advice and sympathy.  The weather is still a huge topic of conversation as is next year’s cruising route.  It’s a sweet home, away from home!

R of Rutea

1/22/2012