When a sound is not a sound, but a fjord

The next few days were going to be sound.....very sound indeed.  Our plans were to have an overnight stay on a cruiser in Doubtful Sound and then a sea kayaking trip all the way from Milford Sound to the Tasman Sea on the next day.  We did a last bit of research on trips and booked onto a couple at the last moment and put a massive smile on Julia's face.  Anyone that has seen that smile will know how wonderful that "last moment" was :)

Doubtful Sound

A spotlight on Lake Manapouri

We had to wake up early and get on the road by just before 7am to make sure we didn't have to race to Doubtful Sound.  I know, getting up early again was a bit of a ball ache, but we'd had 4 days of waking up when we wanted and so we "dried our eyes" and got on with things.

Driving in a south westerly direction through the Remarkables (great name) towards Doubtful was a pleasure and a joy.  With the sun at our backs and just beginning to rise, we thoroughly enjoyed the winding roads and lack of traffic.  As I said, we had plenty of time so when we arrived, we pulled up, prepared Babette, locked her up and sauntered down to the jetty.  

Wrapped up warm in the very fresh air

what a beautiful shoot...yes alex you photographed this

The bus transfer from Lake Manapouri to Doubtful Sound stopped off quickly and we couldn't resist a photo

Out of all the boats that we could choose from to do this trip, we'd chosen a small boat with a maximum  of 12 passengers.  Mainly because we wanted to have a more personal environment, but also I think you get to meet people and have better conversations in smaller groups.  One of the boats must have had upwards of 30 people going out to it and that looked a nightmare.

Kendall trying to be inconspicuous ......fail!

Kendall was the first of our group we met and after a quick introduction we were happily chatting away the length of Lake Manapouri.  To get to Doubtful Sound, first you drive to Manapouri, then catch a ferry across the lake, then there is a transfer on a mini-bus through to the final boat.  The trip across the lake was smooth, though a wee bit chilly, but we were lucky and had magnificent sunshine that burned through the early morning mist to reveal some amazing views.  NZ just keeps giving.

Finally on our boat..a very happy captain

Most of the infrastructure here was built as part of the hydroelectric power plant construction project and having seen the info on the plant, it is really quite impressive in a "little boy and his tonka toys kind of way."  The Kiwis also seem to be quite proud of it, showing if off from various angles and telling us all sorts of little facts.

We jumped into our bus and began our journey through the pass with JR our driver.  He was a nice bloke that seemed like someone we'd get along with on our trip.  The others in the bus were a lovely couple from Melbourne and a French Canadian family from New Caledonia....we didn't speak much with them though.

Julia: "Pictures just don t translate how beautiful it actually is."

Happy that we got the washing in before it started raining

Paparazzi

One very important fact we learned on the bus out to the boat was the definition of a Sound and how that differs from, say, a Fjord.  A Sound in a valley to the sea that has been carved by a river and is then filled in with sea water once it meets the sea.  A Fjord is the same, just the carving will have been done by a glacier not a river.  Fjords tend to be narrower and steeper than Sounds.

Somehow they manage to look quite beautiful

Doubtful Sound is marvellous for many reasons; the dolphins, penguins, seals, fish, albatri* and other animals you can see obviously kept me oohing and aaaahing and pointing away like a child on speed!  Then there is the serenity....it's just so empty and quiet.

The splashes are dolphins

Alex was totally fascinated by this broccoli-island

One of many Albertri which followed our boat

We pulled up at one point to do some fishing and it was dead quiet.  A slight, misty rain was falling gently from a bright, but leaden, sky as we approached two cray pots that the boys had in the depths.  The sea-floor was about 35m deep here yet we were only about 10m from shore.   Up they came and though the first had only one crayfish (or rock-lobster) inside, the other had about 5!  Yummy.  Dinner would be good.  We moved along the rock face to some other points and pulled out our rods.

Proud like he had caught it

3 rainjackets that'll do ...ready to do some fishing..

Part of our journey around the world is of course devoted to discovering new places.  Neither of us had been to Doubtful Sound before so great, we can tick that box :) There is also another side to the trip (well there are lots, but we'll focus on this one now)......we are learning about each other and ourselves.  Julia learned that she actually likes fishing, which is wonderful.  I've wanted to take her deep sea fishing for years now and I do believe that we'll be doing that out in Costa Rica and maybe even in Mexico.

It turns out she's rather good.....and the smile on her face as she pulled her first fish from the sea was a wonder to behold.  That smile turned a bit sour later on in the afternoon as her mind wandered and her reel became a nice big bird's nest!

Tadaaah.. i was so happy and proud....

So I got a little overexcited and forgot the rules and created birds nests 

When you're in the Roaring 40s the weather can change quite quickly....and it did

JR then pointed the boat out to sea again and we headed off round some of the coves and out towards a headland and some rocks that had a seal colony.  Watching them play around was great .....the way they look so cumbersome on land and then as soon as they dive into water they transform into perfectly agile and graceful animals.  Knowing how they smell on land makes the whole "agile and graceful" bit seem even more incongruous!

The seal colony

 By now the sun was setting and with a strong Nor-Westerly coming in we headed for a small cove to shelter in for the night.  The Tasman Sea is the second roughest stretch of water in the world (after the Magellan Straits at the bottom of South America) and there is a reason for this.....we're in the Roaring 40s - that strip of the globe at the bottom, just above Antarctica.  There is barely any land mass barring NZ and the tip of South America down here, so the winds just go round and round making the seas amazingly rough.

Therefore I had assumed that when we pulled up for the night there would be some swell and perhaps some waves as the winds were picking up, but nope, the sea was glassy as we dropped anchor and Richie began prepping dinner.

Our dinner was fantastic - what the guy whipped up in that small kitchen was so tasty and varied, it was quite incredible.  In fairness, the bounty of the sea was on his doorstep and it wasn't like you even had to try that hard to catch it.  We gorged on seafood and lobster tails and more seafood and some lovely salads.  Mmmmmm.

Over dinner we really got to know James, Hannah and Kendall and it was great to be on a "tour" with people of our age group.

We had a great night's sleep (well, I did, I think Julia was a little worried by the noises of a boat on water) and woke fairly early to a simple breakfast, then a motor back down the channels to the mooring point at the head of the sound.

Back in Manapouri we said goodbye to Kendall then offered James and Hannah a drink in Babette later on - they were also going to Milford Sound and as there was only one place to stay there, we would be neighbours that night.

Approaching Milford

The weather report for today hadn't been stellar and as we got into Babette, prepped her for the road and set off, the weather broke and the rain fell properly.  Good grief but it fell hard.  The winds made driving her across the slippery curves of the road a joy.....one minute it would be blowing a gale, the next it was dead calm and all the while Babette was doing her best to be a trifle unpredictable.

There was something magical about this spot as all the waterfalls appeared in the rain

Then we approached the Sound (Milford that is) and WOW!  Somehow in the rain, with the grey skies and fading light the place had a grandeur that was like a giant's punch.  The landscape was an imposing mass of cliffs, waterfalls, granite rock and low-level bushes and trees that looked more bloody minded than happy.  This was tough, uncompromising country and it really began to feel primordial, like you were quite brutally at the ends of the earth.  Mists were rolling around, opening and closing the views around us and the rain was being driven by very high winds.

In order to drop down into Milford Sound you have to cross the last set of mountains and then drive down a valley of switchbacks.  To cross the mountains you have to drive down a tunnel that has been hewn into that rock and again, the gaping maw of that tunnel was in some way ominous.  These photos give you some idea, but honestly......the feelings and sensations of being in that landscape "just don't translate" (to quote Julia's favourite photographic phrase).

How many signs do you need to tell you how to drive in a straight line down a tunnel?

As we left the tunnel on the other side we had another lesson in meteorology.  The rains and wind on the one side of the mountain hadn't yet made it across the peaks and so we came out into sunshine and dry roads, which was nice, because the journey down to Milford was a slow and windy process.

That's the view when you come out of the tunnel

My Queen of Sheba

Finally we arrived at the campsite and by then the rain and wind had caught up with us.  It was p*ssing down.  We booked our slot, left a message for James and Hannah to join us for dinner if they wanted and parked up.  Behind us was the river that made its way down to the Sound and if you'll pardon the pun, it sounded lovely.  As I was making dinner (chilli con carne) another Babette pulled up next to us.


By the time James and Hannah came over for dinner, Babette was a glowing and cosy little haven in a quite miserable night.  They'd brought wine, cheese and golden kiwis (really good, much better than green ones) and we had a very civilised night of it.  We even played scrabble and I think I possibly scored my worst ever score - what a good host ;o)


Next morning was a very early start to meet up with the group who would be going with us on a sea kayak trip that would take us nearly 20km from Milford to the Tasman Sea.

It was very early...but i was so excited to get going

The sun is slowly creeping up the mountain

Our guide was an enthusiastic young guy that had surely studied the most fun subject ever at university - outdoor sports.  Why did I never have that chance?  To be fair, as has been stated before, I am hardly a great sportsman so I would probably never have taken the subject, but still.  Wonderful.  Anyhow, this guy got us ready for the trip and we paddled out onto the Sound with a bit of trepidation. The day had dawned bright and clear with the sun breaking through the clouds and the water like glass.  Perfect conditions, but things change quickly out here.

some security exercises beforehand that we'll arrive back nice and sound

As it turned out, they didn't.  We paddled and paddled and paddled some more.  I was in charge of steering and apparently we could have halved our journey length if I hadn't decided on a zig zag course......oh well.  I was barefoot and halfway through the trip could barely feel my feet, which is a problem if you're using them to steer.  Once again, the photos we have here can't really do justice to the majesty of this fjord.


Fjord?  I hear you ask.  Yes, fjord.  For in fact the Kiwis made a wee error when naming Milford Sound a Sound.  It was made by Glacier and should therefore be called Milford Fjord.  That would sound ridiculous though....

.....I just re-read that paragraph and am amazed how many "sounds" and "fjords/fords" I squeezed in....

one of many waterfalls we paddled under

......our guide was full of useful information and we certainly learned a lot on this trip.  At the end of 3 hours paddling, we approached the motorboat that was to return us to Milford and looked out on the Tasman Sea, very grateful indeed for the fact that the weather held off.  There were tales of 150km/h winds racing through the valley and other horror stories involving the waves etc.  Our leisurely paddle up the Sound/Fjord in the sunshine was clearly not a regular occurrence.

right in front of us, the Tasman sea

Once back in Babette we decided against showering immediately.  Rather push on to Mount Cook as we had a looooong journey ahead of us.  Our journey would take upwards of 7 or 8 hours and if you looked at a map it's a rather annoying journey, where you have to travel miles out of your way down one road to join another that's going back to where you want to.  We'd travel back past Manapouri and Queenstown, then onto Cromwell and finally hit Mount Cook Village Campsite.

The Saroians modelling the Fall 2013

Sea Kayak Wear collection

The sun was out today which was a blessing.  All the drive from the previous day had been done in mist and rain so now in the bright light we could see this glorious journey properly.  Though the cliffs and mountains of Milford look better in the rain, the valleys and forests we drove through are wonderful in the Autumn sunshine.  The colours of the leaves on the trees and the browning grasses were stunning.

Babette's first hitch-hikers

Mount Cook is the highest peak in NZ and our trip wouldn't have been complete without a slight detour to see this fella.  Along the way we noticed a guy standing in the bright sunshine at an intersection, waiting patiently to hitch a ride.  After so long on the roads and not having had the chance to give someone a lift, we pulled over and he jumped aboard.  He was from Enniskillen (Northern Ireland) and managed a climbing company in Queenstown.  We were going to pass through Queenstown so he joined us and was a good travelling companion.

Further on down the road we spied a young lady on her own trying to flag down a ride.  So we pulled over and in she popped, closely followed by her boyfriend.  They were from Detroit and were making their way through NZ working, now headed for Cromwell and the wineries (for some grape picking) in Carrick Valley.  The 5 of us chatted away until Queenstown, where one jumped out then the 4 of us continued up to Cromwell.  It was great to be able to share the comfort of Babette with hitch-hikers and felt good that we could help out the Detroit couple so much by getting them to Cromwell in one ride.










We dropped them off at a petrol station, filled Babette up and continued.  The sun was setting already and we still had a good hour and a half to drive.  We'd arrive in darkness, which was a bit of a shame.

this is not photo-shopped..

From here the drive became a bit strange - kind of like we were alone in the world.  Mount Cook village is pretty remote and we barely went past any cars at all.  Seeing the drive we did the next day, well, perhaps I could have driven slower!  Julia did ask me to take my foot off the gas in places, but I really wanted to arrive.  In the end, all was good and we pulled into the parking lot of the campsite safely.  Unfortunately the office was closed so we picked out our own spot and parked up, amidst loads of little rabbits, running around in the dark.

Add caption.....lost for words

I couldn't wait to see the mountain in the morning and both of us had our fingers crossed for good weather.