Showing posts with label Doubtful Sound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doubtful Sound. Show all posts

Monday, February 12, 2007

02-08 February 2007, Picton to Doubtful Sound

02 Feb-08 Feb, Picton to Manapouri (Doubtful Sound)

The Interislander ferry is similar to Canadian ferries. Posh, carpeted, tons of amenities: coffee, lounge, restaurant, movie theater, sun decks, atriums with tables, reclining lounge-style seating. It can hold about a thousand vehicles, depending on the volume of semi’s, and another 1600 passengers. It has 8 serviceable decks, with vehicles parked on 5. A complicated arrangement of ramps and movable plates allow for two levels of vehicles per deck. It is quit the system. They can completely load the vessel in less than an hour, and disembark in even less time than that. It is a comfortable 3.5-hour cruise across the straight. It can be quite the adventure in windy weather. Yesterday would not have been a pleasant day, winds up to 40 knots and westerly swells… I am sure green was the color of the day. We grabbed a couple of tall blacks and relaxed in the aft atrium on deck 8. The movie was Happy Feet, and we had already seen it before we left the states.

Wait a minute you say- Tall Blacks? - Welcome to coffee down under. We finally have a limited grasp of ordering coffee in Oceana. Short black, tall black, short white, tall white, with one, with two, cap, machiatto, mocha… Being from Seattle we should have all coffee lingo hardwired. Nope. A single straight shot is a short. White is cream or creamer type powder. Tall is americano. With refers to how many sugars. All coffee is in 8 ounce cups, or 10 depending upon cafĂ©. Drip is “filter” coffee, and the stigma is so great it is almost impossible to find. Decaf is another rare and elusive breed. Most decaf is instant, which is not too bad in general. Virtually all coffee, short or tall, black or white, with or without, is $3-4 NZ. Add 50 cents for decaf, and if a mocha, add another 50 cents for soymilk… The look JD got the first time he asked for a decaf grande soy mocha… Green swamp creatures receive more comprehension. We have adapted.

Some other observations/interpretations of Kiwiana:

“Taking the Piss”: Good-natured ribbing, you are expected to receive as good as you give.
“Good on ya”: multi purpose phrase, similar to “No Worries”, Aussie in origin, generally means “no problem”, ‘It’s ok”, “No Bother”, etc.
“Cheers”: Thanks, buh-bye, no worries, you’re welcome.

Rugby- Top of the national focus, followed in descending order by family, God, drink. The national all-pro team is called the All Blacks. If they lose at the international level, the NZ stock market will actually dip a significant percentage. The worst possible loss is to Australia.

Speed cameras: Randomly placed, concealed cameras that take a picture of any vehicle exceeding the posted speed limit. You don’t know you have a ticket until it shows up in the mail… We don’t now if there is a 10kph grace or not… Hopefully we won’t need to find out.

We head to the northwest corner of the South Island. It is an area with one road in, same road out. Sixty some-odd kilometers of steep twisty uphill, then downhill. The region is called Golden Bay. This is where all the Woodstock ex-pats and wannabe’s have set up shop. Very laid back. We started in Takaka, which was getting ready to have a Saturday Mardi Gras. We had a pub dinner and got to watch the US get creamed by Fiji in sevens. (37-0). (For you non-ruggers, sevens is a 22 minute, 2 minute half, seven on seven game. Same contact, same scoring, same blood on the grass, no scrum, no time outs.)

We started the day off with a visit to the local rock (climbing) shop, Hangdog (www.homepages.paradise.net.nz/hangdog.camp). A guy from New Paltz (NY) was behind the counter. He hooked us up with the local guide book, and was able to really make clear the translation of the Yosemite ratings to Aussie/Kiwi ratings. We then hit the rock right over the bay. Admiring the view was spectacular (At the top of a climb, you must always take a moment and “admire the view”). We ran four different routes, finishing on a 26 meter 16+ (5.8+) with a bell at the top. The rock was a layered crenellated limestone, complete with fossils. It was a climb up the geological history of the island. Full pressed limestone, followed by gravel conglomerate, the sandstone, more limestone and topped by conglomerate. (Ocean, ice age, ocean, ice age, ocean, volcanic uplift, ice age…) Our fingers were tender by the end of the afternoon. The insects on this island are actually turned on by our bug juice. We had a few bites, applied the spritz, then had a small swarm of mozzies (No malaria or west Nile here yet…). Disturbing.

I always thought Mardi gras was the Tuesday before Lent, but with the time and date changes, maybe it was... Jerry Garcia is not dead. He was here playing with a drum group. Here’s a picture. We watched a bit of the pre-funk and headed further out the bay to our next nights lodging. (In our continuing gift of timing, we arrived in a tiny town during the same weekend as the Big Summer Party, Mardi gras, and the local school all-years reunion…) There was really not much going on at the end of the road (literally), but we did have our smallest scoop of TipTop ice cream for the largest price so far… The town library was only open an Tuesday and Saturday form 11am to 1pm. We did enjoy a nice bottle of shank with the sunset.

On our way back through Takaka we stopped off at a different climbing site and ran a few routes before the drive southward. Same yet different rock. Being a touch further inland it didn’t have quite the same erosion characteristics. Less “sticky”, but fun nonetheless.

During our drive we saw our first Weyerhaeuser NZ sign. We have seen lots of clear cuts from the southern North Island down, but this was the first to ID any particular company. There is a surprisingly lax replanting guideline for a “green” country. You can certainly tell were timber harvest has occurred and replanting has been done. The trees are in orderly cornrows up the side of a hill or mountain. At the same time there are many places where the total hillside is denuded. No bushes, stand trees, grasses, stumps, nothing. Every so often a slash pile was left. Its as if the “full sun regeneration” philosophy is hard at work. At least the Weyerhaeuser clearings had seedlings…

We stopped off in a random forest picnic area for a pee break and picnic. Upon exiting the car JD was immediately covered in nasty biting little black flies. It was like a bad seventies horror movie (Swarm IIX, the Black Cloud of Death) KK didn’t believe him, and thought he was exaggerating. (JD is usually exempt from bites; don’t know why…though KK has some personal green house theories) He wasn’t making it up; part of the cloud followed him back into the car. We spent the next ten kilometers killing these most persistent little critters. They don’t annoy. They land, they bite. They don’t circle, don’t walk around, or prospect for the juiciest bit. They land, and then they bite, period.

We stop off to see a seal colony near Westport. The seals have just finished the birthing season so there are lots of pups playing on the rocks. They have three distinct games: Chase, King of the Rock, and Follow the Leader. The flies discover us once more, time to hit the road.

Our nights’ lodging is a cabin in the seaside jungle. A short walk through the forest takes you to a washed pebble beach, replete with wind and wave carved formations, a sea cave or two, and a little waterfall. We are hoping to catch the sunset in an hour or so. We have coated ourselves in bug juice. It doesn’t have any effect whatsoever. We are human pincushions. We have learned the name of our nemesis. It is SANDFLY. They plague the entire west coast, and have since before the Maori arrived.

JD has a theory: Each time you crush a sandfly it releases a burst of pheromone that attracts any nearby flies to seek revenge. If you let it bite and go, it releases a burst of pheromones that attracts all nearby flies to get a free meal… We abort the sunset plan and head back to the cabin. We meet our roommates, Urs and Gabi form Switzerland. They have been bicycling around the South Island for a few weeks. They put on the long sleeves and go for the sunset. They make it, but not without a few battle scars around the face, wrists and ankles.

It turns out Urs teaches photography at a university, we never did find out what Gabi does. He and JD swapped camera trivia and photo manipulation tips. Both well in touch with their inner geeks. We hit the road to visit Pancake Rocks. Pancake Rocks is another limestone formation with a shelved erosion pattern. During hide tide and southwesterly swell it also has a rather energetic blowhole area. We passed through during low tide, and did not feel we could wait the 4 hours to the next high. They were an impressive formation, even without the blowhole going. A short walk also put us into a short cave system, which we explored for a bit as well (Always have headlamps and mini-mags, you just never know…). Had we mentioned KK started driving today? She was only a mildly nervous wreck. There is a learning curve to the opposite side. She just needs to get used to the oncoming traffic, especially trucks.

Our plan was to spend a few nights in Hokatiki, home of west-coast greenstone (NZ Jade). We wanted to take a carving class, make a neat piece of stone jewelry. Do you ever feel you never get the memo? Miss the news? Are out of the loop? We figured lodging on a Monday night would be no issue… As it turns out there is another national holiday this weekend. Waitangi Day (Remember the Maori-British treaty with two versions?). Tuesday is the actual holiday, giving everyone a four-day weekend… We are on the major recreational coast for the South Island during a glorious sunny weekend. NO Vacancy. Anywhere. For FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY KILOMETERS… It was supposed to be a short drive day. It wasn’t. We made the best of it, stopping to see the Fox Glacier and occasional scenic wonder. We rolled by a little backwoods, middle-of-nowhere, hunting/fishing motel around 8:45pm. They had a room. We took it. It had a very nice lake, only a few hundred sandflies, and it was quite. It was called Lake Paringa Resort: Five cabins, a few canoes, a boat ramp, and some seriously “rump-sprung” mattresses. Just like sleeping in an egg. Better than sleeping in the car.

We cruised on south to Queenstown, adventure capitol of NZ. Home of Bungee jumping, street luge, parasailing, paragliding, and any other outdoor activity that may or may not cause irreversible brain damage and possibly death. The trip down took us through high desert. Just like Eastern Oregon, Eastern Washington, and Southern Idaho. Rounded volcanic hills with dry scrub grasses. It was hot.

We stopped at Puzzle World, home of the first, and one of the longest, outdoor mazes. We worked the maze, and enjoyed the hall of illusion. They have a psychic challenge in place: Find the two hidden portions of a $100,000 promissory note. They are both within 100 meters of Puzzle World. Put up $1,000 NZ, spend thirty minutes asking the man who hid them questions (he will not speak his answers, only think them… and he is behind a screen.), then you have an hour to find the pieces. If you don’t, the $1,000 goes to charity. If you find them, you get $101,000. Six people have tried, none have succeeded. We decided to keep our psychic abilities to ourselves.

It’s a long way between places on the South Island. After a nice desert drive we arrive lakeside in the action resort mecca of Queenstown. Lodging is once again tight. We do find a decent place, a short walk into town. Today is the actual holiday. A number of establishments have a sign up mentioning a 15 or 20% surcharge on public holidays. We have seen this before. The publican at a watering hole fills us in on the details.

First, a little NZ financial background: The national minimum wage for anyone over 18 is $11.60 per hour (I have seen a couple of different sources, with different amounts, so I split the difference…) It is going up to $12.00/hour April 1. This minimum wage applies no matter the sector of your job. If you are scooping ice cream, digging ditches, or waiting tables this is the lowest you can make. (This is why it is so damn expensive to eat out…) Additionally, all employees will be granted 4 weeks vacation, minimum, per year, regardless of job position and experience.

On public holidays, every working employee must be paid time and a half. Many eateries and some retail will actually close. Most others charge the extra 15-20%, as well as eliminate happy hour and other specials in order to mitigate the extra payroll expense. A few places choose to suck up the surcharge, and do advertise the fact. Needless to say they end up being the only places with custom during the holiday.

We have learned to make arrangements ahead of time. Our kayak trip is booked for Thursday, and lodging is set up for both Wed and Thurs nights. Wednesday morning we are wandering Queenstown, enjoying the local flavor, and wander back to the car. It was time for lunch. Small resort towns everywhere (JD grew up in one…) make their money from tourists, all ways. A parking ticket was under the wiper. It was, according to the ticket, a short-term space. No signs. No way to fight (because you’re leaving town…). Our neon-signed rental car (we have mentioned the giant EZY RENTAL decal in the back window?) says: “Ticket me! I have to pay without an argument.”

JD moves the car to a marked thirty-minute space and grumbles off to the ticket pay station down the street. We skip lunch in town, and head to “Bungee Bridge”, home of the first bungee company. We watch a few jumpers, and then grab a nice pub lunch on the way to Manapouri, our next stop, and a gateway to Doubtful Sound.

Manapouri is a small farm/eco-tourist community on the southern shore of Lake Manapouri. 2nd deepest, 5th largest lake in the country. Its real claim to fame is its access to Doubtful Sound. Doubtful was named by good ‘ole Captain Cook in the 1700’s. He was “doubtful” there was enough wind inside to blow the ship back out, so he never went in.

This, along with 14 other “sounds” march along the southwest coast. (Nautically, he misnamed the sounds, they are all fiords, Glacially carved cutouts with steep sides, immediately filled with ocean upon glacier retreat… A sound is a broad river valley flooded by ocean, generally shallow- less than 80 meters). Anyway, until the 70’s the only way to the sound was by ocean (178 nautical miles to the nearest port through “lively” seas), or a multi-day tramp through some very imposing and rugged terrain. Doubtful gets 8 meters of rain a year (800 centimeters, 315 inches…). This rainfall occurs over an average of 206 days. There have been single days with 180cm (70 inches) and just last year, a six-hour period with 128cm (50 inches). That is wet. Even to a Seattleite.

The building of the Manapouri hydroelectric plant is what “opened” this area up. A 22k road was drilled into the wilderness (it took three years to find the pass over to the sound…) at a cost of $4.35 US per inch. The only way to bring the heavy equipment and material was to barge it into Doubtful sound, unload it onto crawlers, and haul it over to the lake. Sometimes the trip over the pass would take the crawlers two days. Then, as now, rains regularly washed the road out, causing delays while the road was repaired. The finished plant is as fine an example of eco-conscious construction as could be managed. It is literally built into the mountainside, minimally exposed concrete, natural flora replanted everywhere around it, and the water outflow is designed to mimic the natural rise and fall of the lake level during the seasons. The plant generates over 800MW. After construction, a few kayak and tour boat operators received permission to use the road, provided they contribute to maintenance. To get to the sound requires a 45-minute boat ride across the lake, a 45-minute bus ride across the pass, then onto another boat in the sound.

We arrive at the kayak place (
www.fiordlandadventures.co.nz) at 7:35am… It is brisk and misty. We are in a group of 7 day trippers. A group of 6 overnighters is leaving with us as well. A short van ride to the docks and onto the lake boat. As we disembark by the power station the flies appear en mass. They are on everyone. We had picked up another bug juice, this one with all the plant extracts plus fatty acids and diatomaceous earth. Theoretically if the nasties do land, they can’t bite through the oils and particulate. It seems to work. The shuttle bus to the sound has little signs posted throughout asking you to not squash sandflies against the windows.

We also get a little insight to the origins of the little winged demons. Maori legend describes the formation of Fiordland as the work of a demi-god, Tu Te Raki Whanoa, who carved out the fiords with his adze and some help from the sea gods. He was quite proud of his work, and invited all to admire it. Humans were overstaying their welcome, and not leaving. He asked the guardian of Hell for some assistance and she released the sandflies. They are designed to teach humans respect for mortality and appreciate the mobility and dynamic nature of life. (“Keep moving and you won’t get eaten”) Now that we know the little spawns of hell are just doing their job, It’s all right… No it’s not. We will continue to crush them without remorse.

The new bug juice does really seem to be effective. We broke down and purchased a DEET product as a back-up (Nuclear option, hopefully will never be used…). We are squeezed into wetsuits and thermals, as well as a storm anorak. Only our heads and hands are exposed. We timed our journey well. Today’s conditions were as perfect as they can be this time of year. Cooler, mildly overcast, no rain, no wind, and just approaching low tide slack. It’s like paddling on a mirror. We spot a fur seal right off the bat, and a large pod of bottlenose dolphins are playing throughout the arms of the sound. We are two-up in a boat, and we don’t kill each other. It’s all good.

One of the indigenous species to be hit by imported mammalian is the mountain parrot. The Kea has survived ice ages, floods, volcanoes, and fire. It is naturally curious, and will try to eat anything. That is the secret of it’s adaptability, and it downfall. The stoat (a weasel like critter) was “introduced” to keep the mouse and rabbit populations under control. They also like eggs and baby birds. Keas had no predators like the stoat, so they had never developed a defense. Between logging and stoats the wild population was decimated. This area is one of the few were the Kea is strong. There are also thousands of wire stoat traps throughout the reserve. Teenage Kea’s are known for hanging around car parks vandalizing… Yep, they try to eat windshield wipers, shoes, boxes, coolers, hats, glasses, gloves, etc. Well meaning people throw them sugary snacks, which they gobble up. Just like any other kid on sugar they need to burn it off.

The fresh water that builds up from the rains, as well as the release from the hydro plant, leave a layer of fresh water 1 to 10 meters deep on top of the seawater. The volume of plant life that is constantly washed releases a significant volume of tannins (the same chemical that colors tea). This layer of “dark water” is a large sun filter. In this sound you find the same deep ocean life at 12 meters that would only live below 70 meters at sea. This makes researchers very happy. They can follow sport dive protocol and observe a wide variety of critters, without special dive equipment.

We paddle over 15 kilometers (10 miles or so). Oof. We are going feel this tomorrow. It was great. Bug juice was only starting to fail at the end (8 hours, not too shabby). We both slept on the bus and boat rides back to the marina. We headed to the little town of Te Anua to find some dinner. We saw a busy Chinese place (with lots of Chinese inside) and gave it a shot. Bad move. It was the worst quality food we have ever eaten. Apparently it was so busy because it caters to the tour buses that pass through. This particular bus was a Chinese tour group… No need to worry about repeat biz. We had to have some TipTop to get the taste out of our mouths.

Back to our cabin to wash our mouths out with some wine. Tomorrow we head to Dunedin (Done-ee-din). A Scottish settlement on the east coast. We’ll be staying in a hostel called Hogwartz.


More Photos: South Island Pt 1 as well as (again) North Island Pt 1 & North Island Pt 2