Hello darkness my old friend

We’re off on an adventure once again

We left the site at five in the morn

This was even way before the dawn

The reason, was written in our diaries, that is all

We had to leave the camp in silence.

We are not Simon and Garfunkel, but we really did have to leave as quietly as possible.  It is kind of an unwritten code of the camps.

So off we went around the mountains in the pitch dark.  We knew from talking to people and reviews, that this was a breathtaking journey.  Well, not at 05:00 in the morning.  It was like any other night journey under thick clouds, only with a lot more corners and bridges.  Day was just about breaking when we went through the Homer Tunnel – Doh. Maybe we could appreciate this more on our return leg.

Getting your oats in the dark

We arrived at the complex by 06:15 and there was already some activity as people were hooking boats to trailers and fishermen were chatting in the distance.  Yes, we were waterside and it was time to eat.  It was too dark and still way too early to pull out the kitchen and spark up the cooker. We also needed slow energy release food that would last us the next six to seven hours.  So it was a big bowl of porridge mixed with muesli that had been soaking overnight.  Fed and dressed we were ready for our Milford Sound adventure.  Because of the dreaded sandflies, we also didn’t want to open any doors or windows until we were out of the Sandd Van and ready to spray the heavy duty insect repellent everywhere that was visible to these minute menaces.

Paddle our own canoe

Suddenly at 07:00 there was a flurry of activity as people exited the vehicles that had been arriving after us.  A load of excited adults,  twitching and restless like a class of school teenagers five minutes before the lunch bell goes.  We were two of those ‘adultangers’ waiting in anticipation, chatting away and longing for the sound. 

The words finally came at 07:15, “Are you all here for the sunrise kayak across the glacial fiord” (they don’t use the J in fjord, but have amended this mistake They now call the whole wider region fjordland, maybe in recognition of their Norwegian cousins.  A chorus of yes, si, oui, ya and other languages replying in excited unison filled the air.  A full safety brief was given. This included what to do in an earthquake,  a tsunami, an avalanche, which could be snow, trees or rocks, or any unexpected marine life encounters.  We had come to realise that the New Zealanders were very safety conscious and for good reason as we had been reading about their chequered history with natural disasters.  We have tried not to keep an eye on the news, but have heard through the grapevine that the North Island is having a horrendous time of late.  We were split into groups of four double kayaks.  Our tour guide, Tim, explained how the Fjordlands were also on amber alert as every 300 years there had been an earthquake over eight on the rickter scale, sometimes over nine – THE BIG ONE was due. This is because Milford Sound is on a major fault line.

Undeterred, everyone still agreed to go.  We all got kitted up and pushed our kayaks into the crystal clear, ice-cold waters of Milford Sound.  Above us was the constant sound of aviation.  Milford Sounds boasts one of the busiest airports in New Zealand.  Though this isn’t jumbo jets transporting people and goods across continents, this is the endless number of tourists flying over the sounds and fiords to have an aerial view without putting in the physicality of a hike or paddle.  We are taking the tougher, but not toughest, option and taking the water route.

Can’t escape work

The first thing that stood out in this quiet fishing village was not the 2000+ metre landscape that surrounded the fiord in every direction, but the ‘Anthem of the Seas’ ship anchored just off port. This is a Royal Caribbean cruise line that, although dwarfed by the surroundings looked gigantic compared to our little kayaks and the small lobster fishing boats.  While we were there, one tender (lifeboat) returned to the ship from shore but no passengers were getting on or off.  The ship left soon after, crawling out of the fiord at its lowest speed.  This was a blessing for us, as the wake at top speed would surely have capsized us all.

Drop in the ocean

As we gently kayaked around this glorious still lake, with just the odd ripple from passing tour boats, the magnitude hit us of how small we are in this vast universe We are simply a drop in the ocean.  Surrounding us as high and as far as the naked eye could see were these beautiful mountain ranges.  Each single peak and ridge having being named twice.  Once by the the Māori, who believe that they didn’t settle but the demi-god Maui had created the islands, and once by the European settlers a thousand years later. These included  the Elephant and Lion peaks as well as the iconic Mitre Peak, named after a bishops hat. The Mitre Peak has a near vertical drop and is often described as one of the world’s tallest sea cliffs.

A peaceful paddle

For the next five hours we had the most peaceful and leisurely paddle around this heavenly mill pond. Stopping only to take photos of the magnificent and majestic mountains which encased us in this alternative world to the one we know back home.  There is no hustle and bustle here, no racing around trying to complete meaningless tasks or the endless pursuit of perfection.  Here we were at one with nature, albeit that we were in a man-made vessel dressed in warm clothing and a bouyancy aid (life jacket).  It was hard to imagine that for four of the last five days the kayaking tours had been cancelled.  Someone was looking down on us as the sun was shining and there was hardly a cloud in the sky.  Every mountain top could be seen. Even the tallest at 2723 metres, which was still cold enough to be covered in snow at the top, even towards the end of the summer.  Although Milford Sound doesn’t hold the record for the most rain in the world,  it holds the record for the most days of rain every year.  On average it rains two out of every three days and is also renowned for its windy days. The winds sweep through the mountainous terrain at such a force it causes huge waves on the fiords. We guess it was our lucky day.  The pictures below do not do this experience justice.

Pick axes at the ready

It was time to head home.  The scenery, as always was beautiful, and you can understand why the goddesses of the underworld did not want humans to settle here and ruin the landscape.  Luckily for us, five such humans went to work with nothing more than pick axes and started tunnelling their way through the mountain, DOH! Once they had got a certain distance locals came to help.  In total the Homer Tunnel took nineteen years to build as it was delayed by World War II and an avalanche.

An impressive 1.2km of tunnel through the mountain side saw Milford Sound opened up to road vehicles and become the tourist hot-spot it is today.  The tunnel also has a gradient of 1:10. Enjoy the ride.

The drive through

The Chasm

We did a quick stop at the Chasm, if for nothing else it sounded interesting.  Another bridge completely washed away during a flood,  When you see the size of the boulders left behind it is no wonder. Again though the striking feature, as well as the echoing of the rapid water through the valley,  was the totally turquoise river.

The Banana Brick Road

Feeling peckish it was only right that we stopped at Monkey Creek and ate a banana.  Red rocks was the order of the day.  Very unusual as they also look like they had been painted red,  but the red smudged when touched but didn’t appear to come off by the rain, most peculiar.

Creaky Falls

Another quick stop was at Falls Creek. This was probably the most impressive waterfall close up due to the sound, the volume and colour of the water and it was unexpected.

Together we stand,  divided we fall

Our last stop was The Divide Viewpoint. We decided that now we had some energy back,  it was time to explore and play.

The Three Cs

After messing around for long enough we got in The Sandd Van and headed back to our base, Cascade Creek for another night.  We won’t bore you with the details but basically we  Cooked, Cleaned and Collapsed.