Get off the water!

Morning red, Cannibal Cove

Morning at Cannibal Cove

View to ocean after leaving Cannibal Cove

Crossing to Motuara Island

Mike was nice enought but I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t have that magical place all to myself - I probably wont get another chance like that on this trip. The rest of Friday evening remained fine - Mike and I both kept to ourselves, he read a book and I wandered around the place, admiring the views in the evening light. I tried to work out what to do next. Went to bed at sunset, 9 pm and slept well enough. I woke in the middle of the night and got up briefly to admire the "wondrous glory of the everlasting stars". I woke pre-dawn the following morning, with the eastern sky a menacing, deep red. Great. Had breakfast, packed up, said farewell to Mike and set off - aiming across the channel towards Motuara Island, a bird sanctuary. As I paddled further out eastwards into the open water, things got increasingly unpleasant - a moderate swell from the northeast, strongish wind (around 15 knots) form the northwest, whipping up little choppy waves at right angles to the swell. The sun disappeared and I started feeling rather small and vulnerable on the high seas! Eventually I decided to play it safe, so I turned southwest and headed for Ship Cove. Once I was past the head north of that cove, conditions improved dramatically. I landed and found I had the place all to myself. I walked 15 minutes to the waterfall - beautiful, and easy to imagine that the first Europeans were just pulling into the cove behind me in their great tall ships. 

Ship Cove waterfall

View from Blumine track

WWII gun emplacement

 I continued on around the shoreline and decided things were calm enough here, a bit further in from the open ocean, to consider crossing the sound to Blumine Island from Resolution Bay. Things ended up being, predictably, much rougher out in the channel than they’d looked from a distance, and rougher still at the north end of Blumine. I made it, though, and paddled into the relative shelter of the northern-most cove on the island - and found the iron posts that Mike from Blenheim had described, marking an abandoned campsite and a track to the WWII gun emplacements. I landed, tied my kayak to a tree, and walked 15 minutes or so to the gun emplacement - there were wonderful views of the wind whipping the waters of the sound from where I’d come. I decided to play it safe again and not paddle back around the northern end of the island, so I continued down the shoreline heading south to the campsite - a lovely spot with a tent already pitched. It turned out to be a lesbian kayaking couple I’d spoken to at Camp Bay and who’d lamented the awful conditions that had kept them there for the previous 3-4 nights. The conditions at the campsite were just stunning and made a mockery of the struggles I’d had during the morning getting there. I don’t understand how it’s so sheltered there but perhaps it faces west enough to avoid the NNW winds. I walked around the new, ugly scar of a track to a viewpoint further north but shouldn’t have bothered - my earlier walk had been better. I had a leisurely lunch accompanied by a weka trying to pinch my food and got ready to head off as the couple got back from paddling at the north end of the bay. 

Lunchtime on Blumine

I still wasn’t sure what to do next, I’d been considering the options: 1. paddle around the south end of the island to Wharehunga as planned, 2. paddle back across the channel and stay at Schoolhouse Bay campsite in Resolution Bay for the night, 3. paddle back to Punga Cove and get off the water. I chatted to the women when they landed and they said they’d just heard a marine forecast - wind increasing to 35 knots for the rest of the day, then 40 knots tomorrow, Sunday. That forecast decided it for me - paddle back now or be stuck out here for 2 nights, unable to move and probably stuck in my tent due to miserable conditions. My fourth possibility had been staying at the Blumine campsite but only if the conditions were so obviously poor that I doubted I’d be able to get anywhere else safely. So, I set off NW to the entry of Endeavour Inlet. Boy, did it end up being tough. The NNW wind was extremely strong - gusts were certainly well in excess of 25 knots. The swell from the NE was moderate and often confused. And it didn’t improve when I got into Endeavour Inlet - in fact it got worse. I battled my way slowly around the shoreline and landed at Mahana lodge because I noticed vehicles there and thought I might be able to get my car down to the water. I shouldn’t have bothered. John, the owner, in a long-winded and at times illogical spiel basically said he couldn’t/wouldn’t help me cart my kayak up to the car park. He said the road down was only suitable for 4WDs … a 4WD with a trailer was parked in front of the house. If I’d been in a group and there’d been something in it for him, it would’ve been different. He didn’t say it in so many words, of course, but that was his meaning. So, I continued the battle around the corner, finally landing, relieved, at Punga. I ended up asking one of the workers there if I could pay to have my kayak and gear carted up to the top car park. He, dreadlocked and with a Swiss accent, said they could do better than that and do it for free. I left notes at Camp Bay and the desk at Punga Cove resort to say I’d returned early then followed the Swiss Bob Marley as he carted the kayak up to the car park. Awesome! 

I headed off in the car, feeling so safe and dry and warm and cosy - so easy, just steer and apply brake or accelerator. Often, on the water, I’d thought about our little home together in Bonbeach and wondered what the hell I was doing out there! Away from the water, it wasn’t a bad day, albeit still very windy. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, so I planned as I drove the long, windy road back towards the main highway. I decided to park myself in or near Havelock for a couple of nights while the worst of the weather blew through, then to drive to Marahau, via brief paddles at Cable Bay and Nelson Harbour, and paddle in to Bark Bay in Abel Tasman National Park, where Mark, Tracey and George were now moored. I’d stay there a couple of nights, then paddle out and spend a final night either back in Kaikoura, or at one of the mountain lakes, Rotoroa or Rotoiti. Then drop the kayak back on Thursday morning, before heading south, way south, for the next part of my trip - some family history exploration in Otago and Southland, followed by the drive through to Queenstown in time to walk the Routeburn Track. 

Car and kayak in Havelock

So, I arrived in Havelock just before 6 pm, rang around a few places and ended up at Ligita’s Homestay - a lovely little self-contained flat owned by Ligita and Bob who were the friendliest and nicest hosts imaginable. Shortly after I arrived, they invited me to join them for a BBQ steak and a beer. And it was a leisurely start to the day today - coffee and cereal for breakfast, then organising my stuff, followed by a walk into town.

Misty mountains from Havelock

The strange thing is, New Zealand is perhaps even more beautiful in the rain (as long as there’s not too much wind!). Misty mountains, bird calls, patter of drops on leaves. I’ve loved my little break here - really peaceful. I drove to Pelorus Bridge this afternoon and didn’t end up putting the kayak in anywhere. Gave a hitchhiker a lift - a local guy who just decided to spend a few months travelling around NZ. Had a cuppa with Ligita and her local friend Silvia, then Bob joined us. Really nice. I walked along the Motuweka trail then into town in the afternoon. Made dinner for myself - pasta with veggies, plus I got a nice yoghurt from the supermarket and an excellent local porter ale and sat and watched Kevin McCloud’s cabin in the woods program.