Shadow lands cut short. In the days before we left home, to come to this place, we felt it coming. Not like a eerie premonition but more like an approaching inevitability. We had been playing catch me if you can for a while now and it felt like it knew all of our hiding places, our luck felt thin. Once down in this spectacular part of the world it was so easy to forget about it, as it truly was a place to hide. No phone, no internet, no white noise, indeed at first we thought we might even be able to hang out to finish our cruise on Saturday and then head back to the real world. Silly people on a boat in Dusky Sound thinking they have escaped the real Covid world.

We woke to a beautiful dawn where the light was stunning. It was fitting for our finale as the skipper said eat your breakfast and hunker down. He suggested we ate only a piece of toast or some cereal as we were headed up the coast to Doubtful Sound and the helicopters were booked to take us out to Te Anau at 3.30. He also mentioned there was an nice 5-6 metre swell up the coast but it was a following sea and it would be fine. I rushed back to my cabin and grabbed a seasick patch and whacked it behind my ear, even though it said to put it on the night before.

Leaving Dusky

I was sad to leave this place that soothes the soul and cleanses the mind even more so as there was no soothing waters outside of the her embrace. We headed up the coast in the rolling sea and I lie on my bed watching the ocean pitch and roll out of my window. I decide that’s not a good idea to look out so I get my iPad and turn on a a downloaded Netflix and watch the time away whilst sucking ice cubes and breathing 4 in 4 out.

The skipper says we have twenty minutes for a quick fish and only those who have good sea legs are allowed forward. (I know seriously!!) Of course I stay where I am. I get up to take a photo to see if I can capture the swell as it feels enormous and I am envious of those who are able to stay upright, let alone fish. The following photo is taken out of my cabin window with the Molly Hawks and pelicans trailing the boat and I wish I could show perspective of this swell heading towards my window and the feel of the boat rolling over it to sink into the trough of the next one. I go back to lying down.

The sea feels worse when bopping around and I wish we would get moving. The fish are caught quickly, and its go home stay home, so its time to move. I am pleased. We reach the calm waters of Doubtful Sound and I am very pleased.

We have time to make a quick photo op into Blanket Bay and Robb once again makes it come alive with its history and stories.

We keep moving and pass the commanding mountains and landscape which feels harsher than Tamatea and more domineering but still beautiful. The phones begin to ping as the world has chased us down and we begin the arduous journey of trying to get home.

We are all packed and ready to leave as the first of the helicopters descend to chopper us out. They have had a busy day. I am not a fan of helicoptering though the sleet and fog and am grateful when we land in Te Anau. There are no flights to take us home they have long disappeared so we refresh, and book phantom flights that pretend they will take us home but the reality is we can only get home if we live in Auckland or Wellington. Bugger.

I shall finish there as getting home is a whole other story that I don’t know if I can be bothered to write. Perhaps I will write it so it stays in the travel journal for 2021 and can be printed out and read with nostalgia at some other point in time. Perhaps I can find a way to make it amusing and light. Perhaps. For now though its day 11 of lockdown and Atawhenua is still easy to conjure in my mind and when I need to refresh I can look at my photos. It’s magical.

Beautiful day- Happy Birthday Toby

We start making our way to the spot where Captain Cook made his first landing in 1773 but more on that later. We get our history lesson and head towards a the 9 fathoms waterfall. We stand on the bow and Robb our skipper has decided that we should actually feel the waterfall rather than just see and hear it. It’s noisier than what you think and the combination of the noise and water is exhilarating as it tumbles down oozing through the bush and fanning out over the rocks.

We once again head towards the landing and are joined by a pod of dolphins. They dart from one side of the boat to the other and have a think about riding the bow but then just move away. They have young ones in tow and are feeding so Robb turns the boat away and we leave them be having been privileged that they spent some time with us. I wish I could of captured them and my joy of photography dissipates into frustration as I seem to click the shutter each time they submerge rather than emerge.

As we head down the sound everything feels like a privilege as I try and capture the mountains, the shadow, the lines, the foreground and background all at once in the blink of shutter. Its tricky and I remember to drop the lens and drink it in with my minds eye, etching it into my brain and trust that my recall keeps me well into my rocking chair.

Its snowing lightly and you can see it dusting the mountains like icing sugar edging its way down to the sea.

As we make our way up the passage we now have the privilege of being investigated by a Mollyhawk. It is inquisitive and obviously thinks that food should be forthcoming. It does graceful loops around the boat which I am unable to capture through my lens but then it lands just aft of the boat as if to say “go on then amateur capture me” and I do.

I put the camera down and watch he/she swoop and dive and invite some friends to join the show as they grace us with their presence. We arrive at the landing spot of the HMS Resolution in 1773 and tender in to where the tree they used as a gangway still exists. Strange.

 I take a photo of our boat anchored in the bay and try and transport myself back to 1773. I can’t, but I can only think that it actually probably didn’t look that different than what it looks today which is perhaps the beauty of this place although of course there are a lot more zips.

The blue sky actually begins to join the dolphins and Mollyhawks and greet us with its presence. It is interesting to see Tamatea unfold in colour as the grey mist that has shrouded us retreats. We head to a bay of which I am already sad that I can’t remember its name and we practice fishing. Robb says we need the practice ready for the big event tomorrow. My line barely hits the bottom before I pull it up and have the mandatory Blue cod hooked. Unfortunately it is too small and it is thrown back. We put the lines up and down amongst us all and once we have enough for the cook to make cerviche for tonights entree we call it quits.

It’s nearly time for dinner as we make our way to our anchorage for the night and as we settle in with our pre-dinner drink and our tasty cerviche our skipper Robb tells us that we have once again entered into Lockdown level 4. Bugger.

I don’t need to say “I told you so” to WH, re the Crayfish, as his foot is doing it for me so I make no comment as he reaches for the gout pills. I simply ask if ice would make his swollen, red foot feel any better?

We head upstairs and after breakfast get another history lesson from our skipper Robb. Its a fascinating history and I aim to go home and get a book and read all about it. The wind is ferocious and I try to take pictures of the squalls as they rise from the sea and into the air.

We leave Sportmans’ bay and head back to back to Luncheon Cove where we have the option to watch the rugby test which was recorded on Saturday and with no cellphone or internet coverage nobody yet knows the score or the other alternative is to take the tender to Anchorage island and walk up to the lakes. I opt to walk to the lake and WH decides he will do the same (I know right, surprised me too). 

We head back to our cabin to put our tramping gear. I am feeling a certain smugness as prior to our departure I had to get some new sports shoes for the trip as my old ones had holes in the toes. I purchased some gortex waterproof ones for no other reason than they had my size. Unfortunately for WH his are not waterproof. We pull on elastic waisted waterproof pants and for me a Japan rugby world cup waterproof poncho which I note to WH, with added smugness “told you I would use it again”. WH has a good waterproof jacket purchased in Sweden so he can be smug in his jacket and I in my shoes. We do have our warm woolly socks and layers of merino underneath so we are like boy scouts or girl guides or whoever says “be prepared”. As we make our way to the rear of the boat to get in the tender I am yet again reminded of what an amateur I am. Only one camera body. Two lenses and no zips.

For real photographers there are zips everywhere and no elastic to be seen. There are zips up trouser legs, there are zips upon zips on jackets, there are zips up over shoe boot things, there are zips across pockets both horizontally and vertically for all manner of much needed tramping things. I hunt for a zip but alas I am yet again an imposter.

Tender to Anchorage Island

Its really, really, wet and to say the track is muddy is an understatement its more like a creek.  Each step takes concentration as the foot is placed gingerly to ensure there is some sort of solid ground beneath. In many places the sure ground is below the top of the shoe and the wet muddy water rolls in over the top. It is surprisingly warm and squishy and I am sure that despite my lack of zips I have the best tramping socks of all happy bush walkers (can’t have zips in socks). I also have the piece se resistance as I have Bev’s home knitted beanie on so added to my elastic pants and rugby poncho apart from the feet I am dry and warm.

We shimmy over fallen trees, walk across logs bridging the creeks, limbo under branches and I love the feeling of being in the bush but wish I could stop and smell the roses.  The return trip we take slower and whilst the roses aren’t there it is good to stop and smell the bush.  We have a wonderful lady with us who knows the bush well and she points out native winter flowers and how to tell the difference between a male and female Rimu, the males are way pricklier and you can definitely feel it. (I didn’t say a word).

  It felt good to be off the boat and walking further than the 20 metres to our cabin. When we get back to the meeting point we have to wait for the tender to get back so we talk to Ellie the crew member extraordinaire. Ellie hails from Sweden and is enjoying her time in NZ and in the small world that is our beautiful globe WH spent 3 weeks in her home town in Sweden a few years ago. So we all tell stories and hardly notice the sandflies nibbling at any exposed skin. I hope she gets to stay here like she wants to and that the uncertainty many working visa people have finally gets some resolution. Along with all this chatter we of course we watch the seals.

We have to select two photos to show this evening in the review and I am nervous in my amateurism but I am also happy with what I have taken.  They will forever remind me of this place and time and I hope whoever views them feels a little bit of what I did when a clicked the shutter.  We are told not to over process them but as I don’t have any software to process them with mine will be purely be as the button clicked.

A moment in time captured forever.

I am a lucky girl.

We sleep surprisingly well for our first night in a new environment at least until 5 am when WH is rumbling round looking for his gout pills.  There is a moment of panic when they cannot be found but luckily for him I hold my halo high as he retrieves them from the bottom of the toilet bag.  The lesson is though, no more crayfish for him.

Its raining, its grey, its cold, and its beautiful. 

It is decided that more crayfish is required and a couple of crew don there wetsuits and get in the icy water. The. Wind is howling and I am in awe of the boat handling and retrieval of the boys and their cray fish.

Robb our Captain has amazing knowledge and history.  We learn about the area and its evolution through Maori tribal clashes to the captain Cook landing.  We cannot sail around to Preservation inlet and Chalky sound as the sea is still red.  I swallow my glee whilst others swallow there disappointment and we sail to Luncheon Cove where we are sheltered from the wind and the water is calm.

The rain stops and starts and after lunch you can either Kayak or take the tender around the many islands in the cove. WH takes a kayak and I opt for the tender I tell myself its because I can take my photographs, but probably its because I am worried of tipping out.

The water is magical.  There is a line where the bush comes down to meet the sea and to call it a tide line is such an understatement .  Its like a frame buts its in the centre of the picture and it blends them together at the same time as holding them apart. 

No matter what the beauty is around the moment lies with all the baby seals.  Evidently its a seal nursery and they are everywhere.  They are curious and playful and I can only describe it as being in some sort of idyllic field full of  cute puppies.  We spend many minutes watching and filming and I remember to take the camera away from my face and capture the moment in my minds eye as well as the cameras.

We cruise around and head more towards the entrance of Tamatea out towards the Tasman sea, to see if we can photo the Five fingers.  I choose to go for a lie down and as the boat pitches and rolls and I hear things falling of tables and shelves I am glad I am where I am.  I therefore miss the brilliant light of the five fingers and the dramatic swell but I did get to see it through someone else’s lens later that night who captured it fantastically and the sea I could still feel in my blood so all is well with the world.

We dine upon cray fish legs for an entree and fresh blue cod for dinner. I tell WH “step away from the Crayfish”. But does he listen?

Tamatea – Dusky Sound.

(Saturday 14th)

I  have spent days stressing. Worrying. Wondering.

Despite my history and career choices I have never been a good sailor.  I try to be .  Real hard .  But to those you who say its mind over matter, I say feck off.    It maybe many things; inner ear, balance, even eyesight and brain connection but it is definitely a state of reality and not a matter that can be controlled by my mind.  

The swell map reads red, (by the way that’s bad). The boating forecast map reads 1 (by the way the scale is 1 -10 and ten is good.) So you get the picture.    I buy my sea legs plus some ginger lollies plus some miracle herbal snake man medicine.  Got to be good for you and here I am. In my cabin on a small vessel in Tamatea – or Dusky sound

First to be discussed is the helicopter flight in.  I have done a few and have always enjoyed the view and the experience.   The only one which I felt on edge was on my 50th when we did one to the Daintree mountains and then out to the Great Barrier Reef and as we went to the Daintree it was misty and cloudy and hit a few bumps and I certainly did not like the experience of turbulence in a helicopter.  Now I have a new experience of helicoptering up the valleys towering above following the lakes arm, in the sleet and then up and over the mountain range in the the snow and mist and in the moments when I did open my eyes up there it was very spectacular but for me the majority of it was still best viewed with my eyes closed and breathing 4 in 4 out..

The helicopter lands on the vessel and the smiling group who was before us begins their journey out with cheery waves of hi and goodbye and comments of what a great time we will all have. On arrival we make our way to our cabin sunk low on the vessel, with large windows out onto the water and we settle in.

There are 17 of us here and we are here to do a photography workshop.  I am an imposter with my little Olympus mirrorless camera.  They talk about what lens to use for what whilst I have only just learned how to take mine off the manual settings and get a good depth of field (I know fancy right). At least WH can say he hasn’t a clue but I wish he would refrain from saying “no my wife is the photographer” as it may be the case in his company but right here right now its feels like a lie. 

 I am here though, in this incredibly stunning place and I aim to make the most of it.  I will name drop some other fancy photography terms by the end of the week and my aim, beside not getting horribly seasick, is to be better at by the time we get off.  

We meander up the sound  which is technically a Fjord and we learn the difference.  A fiord is glacier carved and a sound (technically Sund) is a safe haven.  So technically we meander up the fjord but with red and ones outside the entrance the Sund sounds perfect.   

We anchor a a great little bay which I have already forgotten the name of and we  tender up to the edge of the sound.   The native bush is jurassic looking.  Its dense and wet.  It has depth and texture.  I hope I can capture it on my camera.

We are told the tannin in the water washing down from the mountains means the first metre or so is fresh and then it turns to salt.  One of the guys cups his hand and takes a handful concurring that our trusty, skipper come tender driver come tour guide was indeed correct.  

I think the strongest feeling of the day is that Maori named this magnificent place  “Atawhenua – shadow land” and it is so apt.  My wish is to capture that “Atawhenua” as the shadows run back into the horizon in layers that are quite spectacular.

We finish the day with a meal of fresh crayfish and salad followed by a delightful dessert of some sort of sorbet with beautiful bits added and a couple of glasses of easy to drink red wine.  Its hard to believe the trepidation I felt this morning was real as this place relaxes the mind and eases strokes the soul.

Top five things to learn

1. to speak Te Reo
2. to bake Cindy’s lemon cake ( and it be scrumptious)
3. How to plant a Japanese themed garden at the beach(not even sure if that is a good idea)
4. to plank at Pilates(at least for longer than 10 seconds)
5. be calm, almost zen in fact, in the face of technical travel blogging issues.

As you can see until I can remotely get down to number five then it really is a waste of time going through the motions of pretending to want to know how it works behind the scenes in the secret maze of connections and caches.

I know I have touched on this subject before and perhaps I should write a blog on the frustrations of trying to work out the technical issues of writing a blog. My frustrations (please bear in mind that “frustrations” is short for anger that far outweighs the seriousness of the situation but makes me sound less demented. ) were heightened due to the fact that it was all going to be so easy as I write my blog on my iPad and I had changed my phone so an iPhone so it would all be seamless. Yeah right.

Anyway here we are. We landed in Brisbane and I followed all my anti Covid strategies. They have a Queensland app and all restaurants and bars check it before you can sit down which is great and you quickly get used to it. Shops don’t have them though so you just wander into them but as I am not that fond of shopping that was easy to avoid.

I love Southbank in Brisbane, I think its the best city park space there is anywhere in the world. Right there in downtown you have the river, the ferry, the beach, the botanical gardens, the cafes, and the list goes on.

We wandered the park and then jumped on the free hopper ferry and hopped up the river. We sat in park on comfy loungers and watched the world go by. I am a lucky girl.

We only had a day as we were off to Coolangatta the next day so time became precious and we grabbed some electric scooters to cover more ground. The bike/scooter/pedestrian paths are amazing and unlike many other city parks and gardens you scan still have access to ride through them albeit on the wider paths.

Botanical Gardens

There are some bits like this walkway where you can’t ride and if you think you might just cheat because no one is around at that moment you can’t because your scooter just stops. It also restricts your speed to 10 kms or even 5kms when the signs depict a go slow. So all law breaking, speeding lime scooter nana’s BEWARE.

I love the way everything is used. Waterline Park sits under the maze of motorway connections and bridges above. Its a fitness park with all sorts of equipment and the space is inviting and used.

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There was of course more sights and scenes. Some eating and drinking which was very delicious however I can’t now remember the name (due to the time lag of writing this not the drinking) but do remember having asian fusion at Luke Nguyen’s fat noodle and it was great.

So there you have it, not quite 48 hours in Brisbane and five days to blog about it. I am going to reach out and seek professional help before I give up and the blogging lark all together so maybe there is hope.