05.12.09 Barrytown Knifemaking

(Greg's day of fun)

As recommended by our friend John, Greg chose to sign up for a day's knifemaking at Steve and Robyn's forge in the little village of Barrytown on the striking west coast. I, on the other hand, chose not to, just because it's not really been a dream of mine- unlike some people. So I became official knifemaking photographer for the day, catching all the enjoyment had be Greg and his knifemaking chums as they were taught all the essential processes from tempering the steel to sanding and polishing the blade by Steve, a characterful old gent who'd been running the classes since he stopped work as a lingerie designer. When I asked him about this odd career change he simply answered that people should have many changes in their vocation through life: he was quite philosophical- and liked to crack a joke every now and then- well, pretty much all the time. Their setup was very accommodating- all the equipment including the forge was laid out on their front verandah and the sanding was done on their back porch with views overlooking the sea. Robyn even took her recruits for a short bush walk by the house to work off the sandwiches she'd provided and there was a spot of axe throwing on offer, but you had to watch out for their two dogs! And, to top it all off and as a very touching gesture, we were all invited (including me who hadn't done anything) into their home for a glass of bubbly wine and a chat, once everyone had finished making their knives. Greg had a fantastic day and it was made all the better by the friendly nature of Robyn and Steve who weren't obviously doing it just to make money. We continued our drive up the west coast highway passing by beautiful, long sandy beaches on our left and miles of green rainforest on our right.

We stopped off at the unusually formed Pancake Rocks and ended up in the small town of Westport for the night.

More Photos from Fox

don't worry, I wasn't actually in charge of the ice axe!


the fast moving spikey ice formations of the Fox glacier

crawling through the ice cave

one of the many ice caves

trying to squeeze through the shallow first cave

02.12.09 - 04.12.09 Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers - Westland

From Queenstown we journey up the wild west coast to Fox and Franz Josef glacier townships, which, as you'd probably guessed, sit at the snouts of two of the biggest glaciers in the Southern Alps. The drive takes us through Wanaka and Mount Aspiring National Park, although the poor weather conditions prevent us from stopping to view any of the majestic lakes or mountain ranges. We'd been recommended by numerous parties to book in for a heli-hike on one of the glaciers, where you're taken up on to the main ice flow and given the chance to explore the blue ice formations. So we signed up for a 7.30am trip on the Fox in two days time and prayed the weather would change. The following day it did and, in the blistering sunshine, we attempted the perilous trek up to Roberts Point to view the Franz Josef glacier up close. The trek through hillside woodlands gradually became more tricky as we ended up clambering and scrambling over wet rocks which were obviously touched by the glacier on it's retreat up the valley, by the massive striation ridges covering them. We reached Roberts Point out of breath but exhilerated by the view of the massive ice wall in front of us. The sharp, protruding ice blocks indicate the fastest moving part of the glacier as the compacted snow in the top valley is pressurised to the point where it causes mass movement down the steep valley floor. The glaciers are in retreat but can sometimes grow and over 5m of movement in the ice flow can be measured in one day alone. We make the long trek back down the side of the glacial valley and drive to Fox in preparation fro our heli-hike tomorrow morning.
The day is the best of the season so far, according to our hike guide, Matty. The skies are completely clear of clouds and the sun is beaming. We've chosen the right time of day also to make the trip because any later and convection clouds start forming over the mountain tops obscuring the views and the surface of the ice starts to become slushy as it melts in the sun causing the scene to be less pristine. So we feel pretty lucky, all in all.

The flight up to the landing point in the middle of the main flow takes about 5 minutes, but it's 5 minutes of sheer beauty with tremendous views up the glacier to Mount Cook and Mount Tasman. (Yes, we are directly on the other side of the Southern Alps from where we viewed Mount Cook a week or so ago.) We strap some metal crampons on to the soles of our boots and are given a quick lesson on how to walk on the ice, basically like a penguin, flatfooted and searching for adequate ridges in which to dig the crampons into for grip. Matty explains the ice changes shape daily and sometimes there can be ice caverns where sheets have buckled up forming tunnels and expanses under the ice. These can melt and break off during the day, so quite often during our trek, he has to check out the formation first, before we go to explore it, in case there's any significant fragility. We step over deep crevasses and can't resist poking our wooden walking poles down some of the meltwater holes where we would lose them to the depths if we didn't hold on. We're standing on an ice sheet 250m deep with meltwater streams all round us which burrow continuously into the mass underneath.

the Fox glacier

We come upon an ice cavern that's quite shallow in height and has a slippery, sloping base and those of us adventurous or stupid enough to sttempt sliding through, give it a go. Both Greg and I get stuck halfway where the gap gets too small for our hips but with a bit of wriggling against the freezing surfaces we plop out the other end drenched. We continue on up the face of the ice flow looking out for interesting formations as we go.

us in the Ice Cave

Another bigger cave shows itself and after a quick safety check by Matty, which involves chipping away at parts of the overhanging ice to see if it falls, we pile in one by one, admiring the intense blue light refraction on the deep ice. The suns starts to melt the surface of the glacier and we view a Moulin, a meltwater stream gushing down through the depths. Another hour or so of ice investigation and a quick taste of pure glacier water and we're back on the helicopter to fly to the green valley floor at Fox town.
And sure enough, as we land at around 12noon and look back up the valley to the glacier, clouds are already perching over the tops starting to obscure the fabulous views we've just been enjoying.

Extra:

It's interesting to note that, while in Milford, I happened to read up on the current projects the Department of Conservation are involved in, one of them being the gifting back of traditional Maori owned land across the majority of the South Island. This land was taken by the crown and there has been an ongoing court investigation for many decades into the legitimacy of this changing of hands, from Maori to British farmers, the outcome of which has been that the land was, in fact, unlawfully taken and it should be returned to its original owners, the Maori Ngai Tahu tribe. There are similar disputes taking place across New Zealand today. It stems back to the misunderstandings of land ownership and title caused by the interpretation of the Treaty of Waitangi (1840), from English into Maori. When the British colonists wanted their newly settled country of New Zealand to become an official Crown colony of the British empire, they drew up a Treaty to be signed by 50+ Maori chieftains and members of the British consulate. This Treaty indicated that New Zealand would henceforth become a country under the crown and therefore, although the Maori citizens could retain ownership of their land if they so choose, any selling of that land was to be done only to the crown, in other words compulsory purchasing. The land would then become crown land and all rights would be transferred to the new landowner. However, when the document was hastily translated in Maori, the essential wording describing ownership was mis-represented and in the Maori version, land that was bought by the crown would still retain its overall governorship to the Maori who owned it, more like a rental scheme. In their eyes, the Maori were rightful owners of the land on which they'd lived and tended for generations and these newcomers were still inferior to their populations and caused no real threat of take over. Which brings me back to the signing over of most of the South Island back to the Ngai Tahu tribe. You see, the Maori system of land ownership was worlds away from the British one at that time. Maori land ownership was attained by the usage of the land, growing or hunting on it and age old understandings between tribes members, so there may have been no particular boundary lines even. Therefore, when the British surveyors came in, measuring up the land and giving it value, the Maori were tricked into giving up their land due to false dealings and exchanges with the British. Without a valid form of currency the Maori were vulnerable to being unjustly rewarded for the purchase of their land.
This is why the Department of Conservation has seen fit to return land to the Ngai Tahu tribe, allotting them a partnership role in the continuing conservation of it and areas where they are free to use the land as they once did, particularly traditional fishing. Traditional Maori names have been re-introduced, which is why Mount Cook is now precursed by it's original Maori name of Aoraki (Sky piercer).

29.11.09 - 01.12.09 Queenstown - Otago

We journey up from Te Anau to Queenstown on a beautiful sunny day which helps to illuminate the mighty peaks and rolling hills of the Lake Wakatipu region. The lake itself is huge and shaped in an L with the resort town of Queenstown located on its banks on the corner of the L. Queenstown is the most frequented of all New Zealand and, as such, is a little disappointing in its lack of authenticity- even the operators working behind the counters of the trillions of adrenalin sports booking offices are tourists themselves and have little local knowledge. The town certainly has money with its impressive array of plush lakeside apartments and swish holiday chateaux. It's known as the adrenalin capital of New Zealand because it offers bungies by the bus load, jet boating, sky diving, paragliding and the highest swing in the world.

Our first taste of this is a trip in the Shotover River Jetboating expeience, a 1/2 hour trip through the narrow gorges of Shotover Canyon, our driver missing the sharp protruding rocks by centimetres and performing 360 degree turns in the shallow waters at very high speeds. Cool! After surviving this first activity we slow down a bit and spend the following day trekking the end of the Routeburn Track from glorious Glenorchy, at the other end of the lake, where the scenery is specifically reminiscent of the Scottish Highlands. The day is not so sunny and we actually start out with hats and gloves. But these are soon shed as we pick up our pace through the beech forests gently climbing uphill for about 2 hours. The path then gets steeper and we have to negotiate our way past avalanches, one of which completely destroyed the path in 1994 and is still very treacherous in bad weather.

It's very impressive, the power of the rocks and the water shows its evidence of its force in the fantastically eroded twists and turns of the numerous waterfalls we pass over on suspension bridges. We reach the summit pass for lunchtime and choose a picnic spot right up in the hidden valley of craggy peaks, a calm oasis away from the freezing winds. It's an eerie place up here especially with the cloud cover descending over the tops of the mountains. Unfortunately we can't continue any further because it's time to turn back so we begin the 3 1/2 hour descent back to the shelter. We've covered 24km today, so that's another tally to add to our book. The next day we make the interesting decision of doing the highest swing in the world, the Nevis Arc. I say interesting because, having done it, I 'think' I can say I did enjoy it but it's very difficult to remember the exact feelings I had when the trapeze that was holding us both, suspended 164m over the canyon floor was released into tens of seconds of freefall before catching it taut and swinging us gently across the expanse, our feet dangling in mid air. I think it was feelings of intense fright and the sensation of vast amounts of air whizzing past us as we dropped though the air, letting gravity do its work. Wowee!

after doing the highest swing in the world

27.11.09 - 28.11.09 Milford Sound - Southern Fiordland

Milford Sound

(Milford Sound Lodge)

The drive between Lake Te Anau and Milford Sound (119km) is reputedly the best for scenery in all New Zealand and it doesn't disappoint. Although as we cross into the Fiordland National Park the clouds begin to descend and by the time we reach Milford the scenery has completely disappeared under swathes of cloud and rain. We check into Milford Sound Lodge camping facilities and proceed to spend the whole of the rest of the day waiting out the rain in the lodge's recreation room, reading and watching films on our laptop. It's miserable out there and the only thing that's keeping us going is the promise that it'll turn tomorrow- we have a four hour kayaking trip planned. And, sure enough, later on the downpour lets up a little and then fizzles out by 8pm so we're hopeful for tomorrow. We're delighted the next morning when we spy chintzes of blue, cloudless sky through the gaps in our van's makeshift curtains. It's clear and sunny! Woohoo! The sheer cliff faces and rocky summits which rise up 360 degrees round our campsite are pretty impressive- it's the first time we've seen them. But we're not so impressed by the hundreds of pesky sandflies which keep buzzing round our heads and biting us as we try to get ready for our kayak. Oh well, you can't have everything! We're collected by our guide from Roscoe Kayaks and bussed down to the jetty at Milford Sound. The day couldn't be better and we thank our lucky stars we hadn't gone out there yesterday. It would've been an utter washout. We're kitted out with life jackets and spray skirts then motorboated 8km through Deep Water Basin and into the Sound itself- a vast sea inlet with highsided crags and snowcapped mountains on either side. We're informed that it was all shaped by glaciers in the last ice age, the water stretching 200m below us and striation marks from the passing of gigantic boulders in the ice are still plainly visible on the sides of the craggy mountains. Our two-seated kayaks are lowered into the waters, there are two more couples aswell as us, and we're asked to clamber in and ensure our sprayskirts are sealed to the holes to stop water getting into the boat. We're run through the 'what to do if your kayak capsizes' then it's off on our way, gently paddling along the sides of the crags, clinging as close as we can to get a sense of the magnitude of the mountains before us and to try and spot any wildlife on the mountainside in front of us. We're constantly passed by cruise ships touring the Sound and overhead by small planes and helicopters doing the same, so it's not quite the peaceful atmosphere you'd like. However there is a definite lull in the proceedings and we're left on our own in our self-propelled vessels to linger as long as we want, gaping up at the scenery all round us. Our serenity is dashed soon enough as we come upon the awesome Sterling Falls coming off the side of the cliffs in a torrent, swelled by the rainwater of yesterday evening. We paddle through the cold spray and are encouraged by our guide to attempt to get as close to the base as we can by paddling as quickly as possible straight for it. The spray becomes more forceful as the wind created by the force of the water hits us head on, but we do manage to get pretty far in, until we can no longer take the piercing icy water in our faces! What we'll do for a thrill! We recover and continue on along the edge of the Sound rounding an outcrop, on which a small colony of young male fur seals are basking and playing. Then we're joined by some bottle-nosed dolphins who swim alongside us showing us their slender arched bodies and fins.

We paddle up to a stoney beach to get out of the kayaks for a lunch break- it's magic to think this bay is only accessible by water. Then it's a push-off back into the waters for the paddle back. Unfortunately Greg's spray skirt seems to have sprung a leak and is letting in water each time we crash through a wave coming from behind us. This makes us quite unsteady and there's a couple of times when we're riding the wave and I feel like we're wobbling and about to capsize. I'm more worried about the cameras in the dry bags getting wet if we capsize than me though! It doesn't happen fortunately though and we make it back to the jetty safe and sound. My first kayak experience- a pretty good one on the whole. Because it's still such a beautiful day we try to make the most of it by stopping off on the road back from Milford through the alpine scenery,

alpine scenery on the Milford road

at Chasm Falls, the tunnel where the cheeky mountain Kea parrots keep watch at either end for tourist pickings and Key Summit track- the beginning of the Routeburn Great Walk. It takes us just over an hour to reach the Key Summit pass where it's possible to view three different mountain ranges on either side.

It's well worth the climb and with the light starting to fail across the still cloudless skies we feel pretty special to be one of the last people on the mountains today to experience their serene beauty. The Southern Fiordland district has been the most impressive area on our New Zealand trip so far- the mountains are awesome grey black crags with gushing waterfalls, turquoise river waters, snow capped peaks and lush green rainforests.

25.11.09 - 26.11.09 Lake Te Anau and Lake Manapouri

(Southern Fiordland District)

We spend most of the day on the highway 1 south to Te Anau, a small town on the banks of Lake Te Anau, gateway to the most magnificent scenery in Southland, the Fiordlands of Doubtful and Milford Sounds. Most of this spectacular area of mountain ranges and sea inlets is only accessible by foot, crossing the peaks and valleys via the popular Milford, Kepler and Routeburn tracks. When we enquire about the Milford Track we find the hut accommodation provided by the Department of Conservation has been booked up solid til March next year- it's supposedly the best tramp in New Zealand. We attempt a day walk on the Kepler Track however, leaving from our campsite in Te Anau at 7.30am. The first few hours are fine and sunny and while we ascend towards the first hut enroute we enjoy the beech forest and impressive limestone bluffs. However, approaching the top of the climb, rain starts to fall and by the time we're crossing the exposed tussockland where, on a good day a fabulous view across Lake Te Anau and beyond can be appreciated, the rain has turned to driving sleet hitting our faces with the force of gale force winds behind it, and we decide we've done enough. Coming back down the increasing rainfall has turned the path into a river and our lack of waterproof trousers causes us to be continually uncomfortable. We're satisfied with ourselves that we managed to clock up 36km today but, by the time we arrive back at the campsite even our so-called 'waterproof' hiking boots are full of water. Not very pleasant. However, a hot shower, cup of tea and some dry clothes later, we feel 100% better. The Fiordland National Park can experience up to 6m of rain each year which does help to contribute to the lush rainforest type vegetation but does also mean you must expect at least one heavy deluge during your trip.
The following morning is a different story thankfully. We take the sunny drive down to nearby Lake Manapouri, a stopping off point for cruises on the Doubtful Sound.

We catch a boat ride out across the lake to see the largest underground hydro electric power station in New Zealand, which harnesses the force created from the lake water gushing through metres of underground tunnels. To build it was a controversial proposal back in the 1960s, due to it's unsightly structure in the midst of the beautiful fiordlands, but the unique position between Lake Manapouri and the sea waters of Doubtful Sound convinced objectors (the level of the lake sits at 180m above sea level so the difference allows for a massive drop to create the energy). We're bussed underground down through an access tunnel 200m below the surface to view the huge generator hall,

where we're also given an explanation of how the station was gouged out of the mountain by hand using an immense workforce drafted in from around the world. The station now produces the most energy from any hydro plant in the country. We exit into the mountain air again and are driven to the mouth of the Doubtful Sound visible from the only road in the entire area, built purely for connections from Lake Manapouri to Doubtful. It has no link to the other side of the lake other than by boat.

Later, back on dry land, we make a small detour to the Wairau River and the opposite end of the Kepler Track, primarily because this is where they filmed the River Anduin scene in Lord of the Rings (where Arwen conjures up the white horses to defeat the Nazgul) and the Dead Marshes.

the 'Dead Marshes'

The evening itself is very pleasant so I enjoy the tramp up to the viewpoint across the wetlands (they don't seem as spooky as in the film) and back again.