APOLOGIES FOR THE TEMPORARY BREAK IN COMMUNICATION
Owing to the fact that we are now out of internet and phone range and are relying on SatPhone emails and the kindest of friend, Mike Clarke, to post messages on our behalf (Currently no photos unfortunately – these will be added in a couple of weeks when we are back in “civilisation”).
Lords River (The Nook), Stewart Island
Monday 2 March 2020
The day started with an early morning run around the headland back into Halfmoon Bay and the town of Oban, to buy petrol and also fill the spare gas bottle, from our overnight anchorage in Thule Bay.
Once all shore-bound tasks were completed, it was out and away, down the coast to explore; towing the dinghy behind.
Rather than re-explore Port Adventure, (which John and I had visited a few days earlier) we initially had ideas of working our way down to the bottom of the island. To Port Pegasus, where we could ride out the next bout of strong wind – due tomorrow – and at the same time, position ourselves for a direct run to Preservation Island and Fiordland on Wednesday, when conditions turned our way.
Tonight’s anchorage would be a sheltered bay in Lord’s River, just south of Port Adventure. But first, we ventured a further 10 miles to a small indentation in the coastline called Kopeka Island at the mouth of Kopeka River. As the local Cruising guide explained, accompanied by a hand drawn illustration …
“Kopeka Island: Foster Goodfellow anchored as shown and explored by dinghy. The scenery is reported as dramatic, including yellow-eyed penguins by the falls and an interesting cave. Depth of entrance unknown”
So, with such irresistible instructions, how could we pass up the opportunity to make Kopeka Island our intended lunch-spot. Although on arrival, we started to have second thoughts, as the narrowest of narrow entrances appeared obscured between a rocky headland on one side and a rocky island on the other; truly a case of being between a rock and a hard place.
At the helm, John held his nerve. The chart-plotter revealing the deep water as best it could, as we used good ol’ fashioned “eyes on the bow” to spot any possible (unidentified) solid objects, as we inched ever closer to the entrance and the small pool of still water ahead. “Now that looks a bit tight Robert”, observed John, who had been increasing in “small-space confidence” spinning Chimere on the spot, by practising at any opportunity he could.
On final approach, of course there was the need to be ever-watchful of the depth sounder, as it revealed the safety, or otherwise, of the water below … 26 metres, 18 metres, 12 … 10, finally coming to rest at a pretty constant 8 metres, as we selected a spot to drop anchor. There weren’t a lot of options, the space being so small, so we picked a spot right in front of a low but impressive waterfall, in the form of an over-grown set of rapids really.
No sign of any yellow-eyed penguins. But maybe we were being a bit hasty, as we motored the short distance to a tricky, make-shift, rocky landing spot. Not that it was anything official… just a set of rocks, slightly lower than the rest, which still required Matt in the bow to clamber up a moss-covered rock to secure a line, while I maintained forward motion with the outboard.
All carefully onshore we soaked in the uniqueness of the location. Essentially a small pond or basin, virtually surrounded by rocks and headlands, in which now sat Chimere, in stark contrast to the natural, pristine surroundings.
Did I mention sand flies? Well, up until now they’d been a minor annoyance. Only now, they cranked up a notch, having us literally itching to get back aboard; where their numbers were fewer and we were better equipped to avoid their bites.
Around this time, the wind and tide conspired to spin the boat on her anchor, and whilst we still had sufficient swinging room, it was sign to up-anchor move on. Lunch would have to wait.
We were soon entering Lord’s River and after investigating an extremely small hidey-hole, appropriately labelled “The Nook” in the Cruising Guide, we chickened out when the depth got to 2 metres, preferring instead to remain out in open water, where the depth was a respectable 5-6 metres and there was plenty of swinging room, again to account for changing tides and wind.
It is here that we would spend the night and on dusk we met some hunters, who had raved up the river in their motor boat half an hour earlier, to retrieve their mates, we discovered, who’d been dropped off earlier. They came over for a brief chat on their return, by which time it was very dark.
They were interested to learn where we’d come from and where we were going. And at the same time, we were interested to hear of their activities. We learnt that they had shot 7 white tail dear … the latest, being lashed to the front of their boat, which we saw under torch light. Apparently shot by one of them with a bow and arrow, after stalking it through the forest. No doubt the avoidance of rifles and bullets helps to tip the “balance of combat” back in favour of the deer.
Earlier, we heard a strange screeching sound from shore and speculated what it might have been … a deer or an owl maybe. It had the sound-vibe of a Tasmanian Devil, or maybe even a Werewolf … but whilst the terrain looked like remote Port Davey or Macquarie Harbour, we definitely weren’t in Tasmania now.
We asked the hunters and they confirmed straight away … “it’s kiwis … they sometimes come into out tent” …
I’d read in the cruising guide about being able to see kiwis, well, now we’d at least heard them.
We downloaded the all-important weather report and it revealed that it will be howling at around 40-50 knots on the west coast of Stewart Island, tomorrow, with conditions on this eastern side, starting out “mild” and off-shore, then picking up from about lunchtime.
It all pointed to getting away early.
Not south to Port Pegasus, but instead north – to a place on the north coast of the island – just past Oban and Halfmoon Bay, to Port William. Whilst the “angle” from here to Fiordland wasn’t as favourable as from down south, on the positive side, it WAS about 10 miles closer, and in addition, we didn’t have to first beat our way around the southern tip of Stewart Island before laying our course.
With the prospect of an early start, it was off to bed
Smooth seas, fair breeze and now that looks tight
Rob Latimer
PS I’m still looking for extra crew to assist with the 8-day voyage, from Milford Sound to Wellington, starting on 14 March. If you or a friend want to join us, please sing out ASAP. Email me on the satphone at … msm1@clientsatmail.com.au and latimerfamily4@gmail.com but remember, no file attachments)
NZ2020 