Fiordland expedition Part One

On perhaps our last chance for more than a quick weekend away form work, Carolyn and I headed down to the Fiordland National Park. They do spell it that way. Anyways, it was perhaps the glaciers and Milford Sound that were so spectacular on our trip 26 years ago that called us back here. Our trip this time certainly exceeded all my expectations. Our friends the Fellows had recommended an overnight cruise on Doubtful Sound, one of the bigger fiords that can be accessed without too much difficulty. To get to Doubtful you take a 45 minute boat ride across Lake Manapouri and then a bus, our in our case an old rattly van, across the 22 KM Wilmot Pass gravel road to Deep Cove, population One person. We decided to go on a small boat run By Fiordland expeditions and it was a great choice. The boat was rather small, it had a capacity of maybe 12 guests and two crew though there were only 5 guests this time as it is the off season here. The fiord itself was stunning
With beautiful glacier carved cliffs covered in rainforest and crystal clear water. As we were out for the whole day, and overnight and much of the second day, we had a chance to explore all the different arms of the fiord.
But it was not just scenery, we stopped and went fishing for blue cod for our dinner and the young woman crew member went diving for fresh lobster as well.

The wildlife was great, with albatross to add to our bird sightings and Fur seals hanging out. Most remarkably were the dolphins, a pod of about 60 live in the Fiord and they get a kick out of bow surfing the boat. Several dolphins at a time would cruise right up under the bow and surf there for minutes at a time. Occasionally they would roll onto their side and look right up at us. It was spectacular.

We spent a very quiet night up at the end of one of the arms of the fiord. It was still as can be and the morning was so quiet, literally we felt at the end of the earth. The fiord was a perfect mirror for the cliff towering above. While it was so still we did some kayaking around a small island.
One the Island we also spotted another new bird for us, the Kaka , a lowland parrot, smaller than the Kea. I confess, this picture of a Kaka came from the recovery center in Te Anau, the ones on the fiords we could not photograph without a camera on our kayaks.
I know I sound a little enthusiastic about the trip but it really was something special. If you visit New Zealand you just need a couple days out of Queenstown to do a trip like this and you might not want to miss it.

Keas

On the final leg of our little vacation we drove to Queenstown and stayed with Mark Baxter's twin brother Paddy and his wife Maria. It was great to meet them but they were off for their own trip but were kind enough to let us stay in the gorgeous home and borrow their dog for a night. I still can not get over those glaciers. How cool! So we reluctantly said goodbye to Kristen and Angie as they took off for the Routeburn Track and Milford sound and we looped back north on our way to Westport. The first Night we stayed at Lake Tekapo, a beautiful aquamarine color lake that I could not capture well on film near as well as a road sign. Though they had a stunning little church on the edge of the lake plus a statue to honor the sheepdogs which made settlement of the valley possible. FYI, New Zealand has 4.4 million people and only 31 million sheep so the 20 to 1 ratio myth is busted. It is only like 8 sheep per person. And 2 cows per person. Dairy has well overtaken sheep economically. We did stop at two wineries in the Central Otago district that had very good pinot noirs and nice Rieslings. Then we were off over Arthurs pass, the highest of the three roads that cross the SOuthern Alps of the South Island in search of the elusive mountain parrot, the Kea. We took a few short hikes to waterfalls in this tiny little mountain town but did not see a kea until the next morning when I think on was looking for a morning wake me up. Unfortunately the Wobbly Kea Bar was not open for the Kea to get a drink. We felt fortunate to have seen one of the 3000 or so Keas left but upon leaving town and stopping at an overlook: We found out why Keas are called the clowns of the forest. Luckily we shooed them away from our nifty little corolla before permanent damage was done. Then we were off to Westport. It was all downhill from there.