A Journey to New Zealand's Best-Kept Secret - Kayaking at Stewart Island

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A Journey to New Zealand's Best-Kept Secret - Kayaking at Stewart Island Wayne Stevens After spending too long in Bluff we finally loaded our kayaks on to the special 12-noon sailing to Stewart Island. Despite gale warnings for Foveaux Strait, the one-hour crossing was very: smooth. As we reached the island, the rain set in and we spent several hours that afternoon in the alleged "Southernmost hotel in the world" watching the local endangered species consuming Speights at an alarming rate. e were waiting for the rain to stop, but instead beach before ferry gliding across to Ulva. Just off the track W itjust got worse. However, after dinner we de- upin thel bush we discovered this humungous sea elephant cidedi it was time tol leave and to the amusement occupying what looked like a campsite. It stared at us oft thel locals and tourists got into our kayaking gear and with enormous black round eyes. Not sure how fast it set off out into Halfmoon Bay. We were instantly wet to could movei ifi it wanted to, we didn't get too close! the skin. After a bit of stuffing around we camped at Dead Ulva Island is predator-free with heaps of kaka, kakariki, Man's Beach. kereru, tui and other native birds. We landed at Sydney By morning the rain had cleared and the beach was Cove and decided to stay for the night, but first we exstunning. We headed north aiming for Port William but plored thei island and met up with Phil and Harriette (who the wind gusts werej just too strong, so we turned around had interesting tales to tell about a rough crossing of the andl headed down intol Paterson Inlet. Wet thought we might Foveaux Strait the previous day). Back at Sydney Cove a find some shelter here - not. The wind was increasing group ofl Polynesian kids and their mentors who were sailand we were facing 35 + knot gusts and huge breaking ing around the inlet were in for dinner from their large waves. As we tried to round Ringaringa Point past Native yacht. We scored some blue cod and paua off them and Island to geti into Golden Bay, we realisedi thet futility oft the spent an entertaining evening with them. mission. During the turnaround I capsized dangerously The destination for the next day was Ocean Beach, a close to: some nasty rocks. Jeanine gave a tow in the rough well-known kiwi-spotting area. The weather had greatly seas back to the nearest beach - these Norwegians are improved and the wind eventually died down, and wel had useful at times - and we scrambled ashore. al lazy afternoon looking for kiwi signs. On the way over We were exhausted when we reached thel beach and to Glory Cove where we camped Jeanine spotted a rare decided to get across to the sheltered side of Native Island yellow-eyed penguinj just in front ofl her boat. Itvery quickly to camp there for the night. At Native Island we camped went under and vanished. among the sand dunes quitel lumpy, but out of the wind, The Stewart Island brown kiwi sometimes feeds during which was the main thing. We steamed some mussels in the day at this time of the year (due to thel length of the garlic and wine (yum) and had some of the 2+ kilos of days and shortness of the night over summer). But despuds we were carrying (they were going cheap in spitel heaps offootprints on the beach we did not see any Invercargill). kiwi until the night. Twice we were walking along the track Over the next couple of days the wind gradually de- and heard something rustle in the bush. We stopped and creased: first to 30 knots, then 25 and then to 20. We after some time the kiwi would come out towards us, knew Phil and Harriette were on the island and we were clearly curious, and then take off down the track. Both keen to meet up with them to possibly do some kayaking times we: saw a kiwi, they came really close one practi- (although this looked unlikely in these conditions), so we cally stood on my foot! We would have loved to get a managed to get around Ringaringa Point and into Golden photo of one but flash hurts their eyes and is a real no-no. Bay just in time to catch Phil and Harriette as they were We had to be content with photos of their tracks in the heading out to Ulva Island for a day trip (by water taxi). sand. The area seems to be full of kiwi, and we hope it Conditions were deemed toor rough for paddling. We de- stays that way as more and more people go to places such cided we deserved a rest and left our boats at Golden Bay as Ocean Beach to spot them and unlike some tourto walk back thet few hundred metres to Oban. Itt felt safe ists, disrupting their habitat and doing crazy things like tol leavet thel boats there nobody ever locks their cars on taking photos of them using camera flashes. Stewart Island. Another feature of the island is that all The next day was just perfect calm and sunny. We road signs are in hundreds of metres; none are measured cruised among littlel blue penguins along the southern end in kilometres. After a visit to the only decent café on the off thei inlet. It was a real pleasure to be paddling without island, wet felt much better and decided to give kayaking battlingi into the wind all the time. Wer reached Fred's Camp out to Ulva Island a go. We imagined the whitecaps did by 2.30pm but decided not to stay there and instead went not look quite as ferocious. across and up the South West Arm a bit. We made camp Wel hugged the coasti up through thel Faith, Hope and on thel beach, rinsed the salt off in a creek, and enjoyed Charity Group ofislets and decidedi to have a break on the the afternoon sunshine. Tramping and Mountaineering 1999

The glassys surface of Paterson Inlet Wayne Stevens We awoke to another great day and got away early as stay the night, although I'dinitially wanted to cruise down we werej planning to catch thei incoming tider upt thel Fresh- the river that same night. A late dinner, containing the water River to Freshwater Landing. The tidal mudflats now obligatory spuds, was had. Fortunatelylstill had an around the mouth of the river are huge and we didn't emergency supply of Coke in my boat. The thought of fancy getting stuck there. As we approached the river a that had kept me goingt through the agonising walk back. really curious and friendly seal got upt to us, clearly won- Only true connoisseurs of quality products (such as feldering what thel heck we were. Itfollowed us aroundi fora a low connoisseur Davel Garratt) will understand the meanwhile, washingi its face with its flippers and rolling around ing of this. in the early morning sun. The river was wide and slow at The tide was high at 11.00am SO we slept in, had a dip first, meandering around huge S-shaped bends. Then the in the river and then cruised back down the river. This, of impact oft the tide gradually decreased and the river nar- course, took less than half the time it had taken to come rowed, and we started to feel the push of it. We were upit. Outside the main channels our rudders kept bangaware that speedboats come up this river and could in- ingi into the mudflats and we were glad to be out in deep deed hear them for ages before we saw them, but were water again. We headed up North Arm for lunch at North nearly swamped by one that left a large wake after going Arm Hut, and then surfed around to Millars Beach in Prices past us too fast. Inlet. With a beach to rival any in Abel Tasman and lal huge Having pushed our way up to Freshwater Landing, we Polynesian style bure/shelter, this was a good place to lick decided to walk across to Mason Bayon the western side my wounds from the day before. of the island. It was now a really hot day and the track Itr rained all night and the morning was misty and grey. was hard, straight, and contained some of the longest Wel headed over to the former Norwegian whaling base. boardwalks l've ever seen. It seemed to go on for ever. In the 1920s and 30s a Norwegian whaling company used We clearly were not fit for tramping any more after sitting the base to repair the ships they used in the Antarctic. on our bums in a kayak for 2 weeks. Mason Bay was They killed over 1000 whales per season during this pespectacular - - an enormous sweeping! bay with sparkling riod. Rusty propeller wheels, oldi boilers and concrete founsurf and a beach littered with colourful fishing buoys. dations were all that remained. My fellow Norwegian was Thet tramp back tol Freshwater Landing was a real strug- made to repent and contemplate the sins of her country. glei in hot gumboots and my feet were full of blisters as We weres sad to end the trip, as itl had been really spestaggered into the campsite. It's official: tramping is for cial. Stewart Islandi is a place where youj just want to stay peasants who have not yet discovered that the way to en- on and on... and after the sunny lushness of the place, joy the outdoors is to sit on your bum in a boat, taking Bluff seemed even more bleak and depressing. We are good foodand drink! We were thankful that the sun stayed determined to return to Stewart Island - New Zealand's up until 10.15pm. It was not too hard to persuade me to best-kept secret. Tramping and Mountaineering 1999