A kiwi is likely to walk out in front of you at any moment. You need to have this in your mind the whole ten days it takes to walk the North West Circuit of Stewart Island.
We saw this one and stopped. It came out and sniffed all around us, before wandering back into the thick vegetation.
On this rainy day we could easily have been walking faster, with other things on our mind, and would have missed this magic moment.
Honora and I are just back from 8 days tramping in Stewart Island. We've spent so much time down there now I sometimes wonder if I'll ever get blase about seeing kiwi wandering around in daytime.
I don't think so.
Aside from the wildlife we're pretty satisfied with some of the tramping stuff we got done this time. I'll get all the details and other pics up here from tomorrow.
It was Easter and we were off to Stewart Island. Honora wanted to go through the Freshwater valley again. I wanted to do an off-track traverse over Mt Rakeahua to Mason Bay. Richard Wills was joining us and he wanted to walk south on Mason Bay to the Gutter. It all fitted together.
The weather forecast showed a few fine days but at least a couple might be serious rain and wind.
We left Christchurch at 8.00 am Good Friday for the drive south, along with thousands of others on the road.
We spent the first night at a backpackers in Invercargill and crossed over to Oban on the Saturday. I'd actually sworn I'd never take the ferry across Foveaux Strait again. However Richard didn't want to fly, so I dropped Honora at Invercargill airport for her 20 minute flight and drove us to Bluff. The sea was up a bit so it was a bumpy crossing.
In Oban we walked over to Golden Bay for our water taxi ride to Freds Camp Landing. From Freds it was quite a relaxed 4 1/2 hr walk to Rakeahua hut. Honora and Richard took a 1/2 hr break along the way for a compass exercise. First they tried to identify which was Bald Hill on the other side of the South West Arm, then they used compass bearings to calculate how far we were along the track on our side.
The last time Honora and I had been along here we'd been fairly hard up against it with very rough weather and deep water on the track. But this time it was quite pleasant and the track was not a problem at all. In fact my socks were still mud-free when we got to the hut - and I was wearing sandals with them!
Our evening at Rakeahua was enlivened by a hunt to track down all the mosquitos that had slipped inside. However the number that left large blood smears on the wall when they were tracked down showed it to be a fairly futile excercise.
In the morning we headed up the track to Mt Rakeahua. I was in front and got to see a kiwi.
Above the bushline it was overcast with a cold breeze. On the summit we did have visibility all round, but the views were only good out to the east over Paterson Inlet. Elsewhere the distant hills were obscured by a murky haze.
We stopped for lunch. It was so cold Honora got into her emergency shelter (a large plastic bag). I dressed up in all my storm gear too, but Richard was stoic and toughed it out.
Our route took us down to the west, toward Mason Bay. The top 350 metres of the mountain was covered in dense leatherwood scrub. This was heinously slow going. Often it seemed impenetrable but somehow we managed to keep wrestling our way through.
At one point the slope flattened briefly and the interwoven barrier of woody branches thinned. We actually were able to see several metres ahead. We stopped for a brief snack and to check the map.
For the most part Richard was travelling in front breaking a trail. And it required quite a bit of breaking too. Then as the slope steepened, the angle kept trying to draw us down into gullies. At one point we did find ourselves lured down into taller forest. The slope dropped steeper, then over a cliff into a stream.
I preferred to try to keep to the spurs and ribs. However Honora and Richard weren't so happy when I led them back into more leatherwood.
Even when we got down into the forest proper the slope was deeply cut with streams and gullies. Many weren't evident from the map. I quite enjoyed the seat-of-the-pants navigating it called for.
Eventually we arrived on the flax and manuka covered swampy flats. And we emerged from the forest exactly where I'd planned to. A long series of sand ridges took us through the swamps and gave us easy travel across the flats to the Mason Bay track.
It was almost dark when we reached the track. Strangely, ecotour guide Furhana just happened to be stopped right there with some clients. It must have been a big surprise to them when we burst out of the gloom.
Honora and I still had plenty of energy and raced off down the track, eager to get to the hut. However we soon realised we'd left Richard behind in the gloom so we slowed up again to keep together.
At the old homestead a DoC agent rushed out to waylay us. Richard said he thought she was the Billie Goat Gruff. However I thought she was the Spanish Inquisition, and no-one expects that on the way to Mason Bay. But after our hours of forcing through leatherwood she didn't have a hope of impeding my progress. Even the kiwi scuttling around our feet on the track didn't slow me down.
It was 7.45 pm when we reached Mason Bay hut. That was 11 hours from Rakeahua hut.
There were a few people at the hut but there were still enough bunks left for us. But it was bad luck for Furhana. Some of the people there had walked round the North West Circuit track. Others like Irish couple Michael and Audrey had come through from Freshwater Landing. Whatever path they'd taken, they were all in good spirits and made for a friendly evening.
I was surprised to find the mosquitos were active here too. On previous trips I'd only found them a problem at Rakeahua. I guess it's because every other time it was closer to winter when we were there.
The morning was for Richard's mission to the Gutter. The day was fine with only a light wind, making it perfect for an enjoyable walk down the beach. We met two friendly North Islanders at the Cavalier Creek deerstalkers hut. They'd been quite successful with their hunting and generously gave us venison back-steaks to take with us.
Walking on down the beach we saw a large pure white bird perched on a branch of scrub on the sand hill. I was sure I'd seen it the last time we came this way. It flapped away as we neared. I wasn't able to ID it properly but it seems likely it was a Cattle Egret. It seemed a strange place to be seeing one.
It also seemed strange seeing Pipits running about on the sand. We're more used to seeing these cute tail-flicking birds in mountain landscapes.
 The view from Kilbride homestead - south end of Mason Bay |
At Leask Creek we called in for a look at the old Kilbride homestead. The house is very small, and though it was locked the windows were uncovered and it was possible to see the interior. It's hard to imagine people making their lives and raising a family in such an isolated place.
Our next stop was at the Gutter. This is a narrow strip of sand connecting the southern end of Mason bay to the Ernest Islands. On one side of the strip are the calm waters of the bay. On the other side waves roll in from the southern ocean.
Richard got his map and compass out and spent time plotting bearings to everything he could see. He was making plans for a kayaking trip round the island, hence his interest in the area.
The walk back to Mason Bay hut took us only 2 1/2 hrs and was sunny almost the whole way. However just as we reached the turnoff to the hut cloud gathered quickly and rainbows heralded the arrival of sweeping rainstorms.
In the morning we were turning north on Mason Bay heading for Hellfire Pass. When we left the hut there was bright sunshine but 20 minutes late when we reached the beach dark clouds swept in from the sea again. A giant rainbow shone brightly like a neon sign in the gloom. However it didn't rain on us this time and the stormy scene cleared again.
Movement on the sand seemed to be more Pipits running about but it was actually Dotterels this time. As we walked on our more constant avian companions on the beach were flocks of Variable Oystercatchers.
Half way along the beach an outcrop of rock juts out from the high sand cliffs. The tide was only two thirds in when we approached. But as we went to go round a fast wave swept in, giving us a surprise wetting. We'd heard from a group at the hut the evening before that one of them had been knocked over by a wave when they'd come around it at close to high tide.
Just beyond here a pair of Stewart Island Shags waddled lazily out of our way. They appeared too well fed to fly off.
A bit further on were a pair of Reef Herons. On our first trip around the NWC I'd seen a pair at the same place. I tried stalking closer to these one, however these birds were too wary and I couldn't get close to them.
At the end of the Mason Bay beach a classic Stewart Island sign marked the start of the track to Little Hellfire Beach. The track starts very wet and muddy and then climbs steeply and slippery. There are knotted ropes to help people haul themselves up. It must be a shock to people walking the North West Circuit clockwise, especially if they've taken the lazy start with a water-taxi to Freshwater Landing. Instead, those who walk it anti-clockwise write about actually enjoying the mud by the time they get to Mason Bay. We just took it in our stride (or should I say slide).
Back down to the beach on the other side, we walked along the attractive Little Hellfire and stopped at the hunters bivvy for lunch. We'd expected to find hunters in residence, but it was deserted this time.
The bivvy had been improved in the past year. One of the blue tarpaulin walls had been extended to keep the wind out a bit better. It also now featured a framed photo of someone's longtime hunting buddy who'd recently died. It's good for non-hunting outdoor people to see things like that. I'm sure it helps people understand how the friendships formed among hunters, as well as the love of the outdoors, are almost as important as the hunt.
This bivvy is a perfect place for a lunch stop between Mason Bay and Hellfire Pass hut. So often it's cold or wet along this coast and there's no other shelter. I know DoC tear these bivvys down whenever they can. I just hope they don't remove this one. Without the bivvy here it would mean just squatting in the mud somewhere along the track. We stopped for a full hour and cooked up hot soup to warm us.
From Little Hellfire beach it's a long muddy climb, gaining 400 metres to the ridgetop. A couple of years ago DoC relocated some sections of this track. The new sections are now extremely wet and muddy. It's actually better to walk on the old track sections as they've completely dried out.
We reached the Hellfire Pass hut at 5.30 pm. That barely gave me time to keep my appointment on the sandhill. It's four times now I've watched the sun set into the sea from the Hellfire Pass sandhill.
The other people in the hut had all come from East Ruggedy hut. There were three New Zealand trampers, an Englishman and Alex from Saxony. As usual, the NZ trampers contrasted with the others in their seeming indifference to the natural wonders all around them. In Stewart Island I always feel more affinity with the obvious enjoyment and sense of awe that the overseas backpackers show.
The next morning was fine again. We left the track now and headed directly down into the bush below the hut. An occasional white permolat marker helped us keep to the line of the old track down into the Freshwater. Lower down the vague track sidled through tangled windfalls and rapidly regenerating manuka trees to the valley floor.
From the bottom end of the river flats in the valley, the track to the old Benson hut site was as good as it had ever been. However it was a disappointment when we got to the old hut location and discovered DoC had removed the hut's former woodshed. The woodshed had earlier been left as an emergency bivvy when the hut was taken out. It had served us well in 2002 when we'd come up the valley in really bad weather.
We travelled on across the almost featureless soggy terrain. The vegetation was mostly manuka only growing to two metres tall. Around us were extensive swamps. The hills in the distance seemed to barely shift as we walked on for hours.
The Double Lakes are the Freshwater valley's sight worth seeing. It's a shame that people no longer have the chance to see them unless they've got fairly advanced off-track tramping skills.
The line of the track is most difficult to follow here, but it's worth trying to keep on it. We took a short diversion away from the original line to see if we could do better, and it was quite rugged going.
Beyond the Double Lakes, even though we were back on the line of the old track, it became even harder to feel like we were getting anywhere. Swamp followed manuka covered sand ridge followed swamp followed manuka covered sand ridge.
Finally reaching the wire bridge over Scott Burn was a great high point. I hope DoC never remove this one as the route would be dangerous without it.
An hour later we reached Freshwater Landing hut at 6.30 pm. That was 9 1/2 hrs from HellFire Pass. It's quite a long way, but we had perfect weather and our skills kept us on the broken and very vague line of the original track virtually the whole way. I suspect our time would be almost a best achieveable time now, with most people attempting the route taking much longer.
There were two DoC workers at the Freshwater hut. They were busy building a new jetty and spreading what must be the country's most expensive gravel on the paths about the place. This gravel is expensive because it's all brought over from the mainland, and then flown by helicopter from Oban. But I suppose it does look more natural than boardwalks.
One of the workers also confessed to removing the woodshed-cum-bivvy from the old Benson hut site. The reasoning had been that North Arm hut needed a woodshed. However that turned out to be a very expensive operation, and it would have worked out cheaper to have installed a completely new one at North Arm. What a waste.
But they were friendly guys, just doing a job, and they helped make it an interesting evening. The only other person in the hut was a former DoC 'visitor centre' worker from Haast. He was just filling in time between contracts at the moment.
On the next day's afternoon Honora was to catch a water-taxi out to Oban. Richard wanted to walk out via Maori Beach instead. I'd decided to accompany him.
We headed off at 9.30 am. I was feeling energetic and kept up a good pace, even through the mud, until I topped Thompson Ridge. The sun was warm up there in the scrub so I stopped a bit early for lunch.
Then the track dropped steeply into dark forest. It crossed a swing bridge and began a long sidle around numerous indentations at the head of North Arm. In places, just below the track, were tantalising mud flats. I guess at times it would be better to go that way rather than keep to the muddy track.
I stopped again at the junction with the Rakiura track to wait for Richard. I'd gotten 15 min ahead of him. It was time for snacks so we stopped another half hour and continued at 3.00.
The Rakiura track is mostly boardwalk and we kept up a good fast pace on it. There was little to see in the way of views anyway, until we got to the tower on the ridge. This gave a good panorama of Paterson Inlet, but there was no view to the north.
It took another hour and a half to get down to the track junction between Maori Beach and Port William. We turned right, and a newly contructed, and graveled, section of track led down to the swing bridge.
The fine sand of Maori Beach stretched away. Walking along that beautiful beach was by far the best part of the day.
We stopped at the shelter at 6.00 pm.
I'd planned to sleep out in the open here. I even found a place on the edge of the sand, protected from the dew by some overhanging branches. But mosquito paranoia set in when a couple of them flew around my face. I headed for the slightly better protection of the fly.
On Friday morning, after washing myself and my clothes, I jogged the length of the beach and back, just for the pleasure of it. What a priceless morning with the sun sparkling on the quiet water of the bay.
We set off for the short walk out at 10.30. The track has stunning views of the coastline and then drops back down into the last bay before the track ends.
This is the tiny unnamed bay of Little River.
Just past here an alternative track goes over the top of Garden Mound. This is the highest named summit on Topo E48 map section and it was still on my must do list. Richard continued on the low track to Lee Bay and we met again on the road to Half Moon Bay.
Rebecca Solnit: Wanderlust : A History of Walking
Wonder why you wander? Take a walk through the history of walking for its own sake (*****)
Hugh A. Robertson: The Hand Guide to the Birds of New Zealand
If you want to carry a NZ bird identifying book in your pack make it this one. (*****)
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