Wilson does Queen Charlotte

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After meeting Mike Wilson at the ferry terminal we sat down to a lunch of lobster tails and L&P and a discussion of what to do with Mike’s week in New Zealand. There was whitewater kayaking in Murchison, sightseeing everywhere, sea kayaking in Abel Tasman and Marlborough Sounds, mountain biking, hiking. You name it, we could do it.

In the end we decided to start the week off with a 3+ day sea kayaking trip up Queen Charlotte sound. We would leave Anikiwa at the head of the sound early Sunday morning and return to Picton with the water taxi Wednesday afternoon.

In our infinite wisdom and because of jet lag, we elected not to pack the night before. Which meant that we rolled up to the outfitters 30 minutes before we were supposed to be there ready to depart and started unloading the van. It really looked like the keystone cops as we ran around getting food and gear out and sorting clothes and everything else we had to do. At one point I asked Mike if he wanted powdered potatoes or real potatoes. The answer was real so the 2kg bag of potatoes got thrown in the food pile, and I wandered off to get something else ready. I’m sure the outfitters were looking at our piles of gear and chaos and wondering if they would ever see their boats again. But we finally had all of our gear sorted, and loaded into the vans. Mind you, it wasn’t ready to go necessarily go into the boats yet. That would be done at the put-in, a short 7kms away.

At the put-in chaos ensued again, as Mike and I began to feverishly sort and stash gear. At one point the outcry was “who brings 5 pounds of potatoes for 3 nights?” My answer to that was “I didn’t pack them, I just got them out of the van. You put them in the drybag, not me.” Most of the potatoes were left behind in the trailer, along with some other food we deemed unnecessary.

In his due diligence, Mike marked at least 3 points in his GPS before we even launched the kayaks. The good news is that if we got lost I would know the exact location that the van had been parked at the outfitters. Mike was a real trooper with his GPS throughout the trip. He was constantly telling me what our latitude and longitude were. The bad news was that our maps didn’t really seem to match coordinates with his GPS. So while we might no exactly where on the face of the earth we were, it wasn’t going to help us get back, if Captain Wrongway was given control of the map.

If I recall the weather the first day wasn’t so bad. At little cool and partly cloudy, but the water and wind was calm. I think it might have sprinkled on us some during the day. Mike was constantly lamenting that he expected tropical weather, to which I responded, “Its not summer here anymore. Its later April. How nice do you think it would be in Seattle in the end of October. Toughen up and deal with it.” His answer was that he needed to read the brochure better next time, he thought it was summer in NZ.

We made our first campsite without any trouble, yet. Our next major stumbling block was cord to set up the tarp in case it rained. It looked like rain might be coming. Wilson was beside himself looking for his parachute cord. “I always carry 50yds of parachute cord, wherever I go.” “Its ok, Wilson, I have 20meters of this cheap poly cord, we’ll be find.” “No its not enough, I we need more rope. I can’t believe we don’t have enough rope.” Don’t worry we got the tarp up without to much trouble. And of course it didn’t rain. We also tried to call Polly, as is tradition anytime you camp with Wilson and he gets drunk. Its fun to call Polly late at night and tell her about all the fun she is missing while we paddle. I don’t know what its fun, it just is. Anyway she was lucky my cell phone didn’t have reception at the campsite, just in the middle of the sound.

The good outfitter had given us a transistor radio so that we could listen to the weather and make adjustments if necessary. Unfortunately they neglected to tell us the station and what time to listen for the weather. Fortunately at this first campsite, we met some fellow sea kayakers. They were on their way back towards Picton at the end of the long Easter weekend. But they were all local Kiwis and were more than happy to impart their knowledge on the Sound, where to go, and what weather to expect. It wasn’t such a good prognosis for weather. The best we could hope for was a windy, rainy night this night, and maybe we would get a calm next day.

Well the night was calm as was the morning. Mike and I intended to paddle on to Bromine Island. This was a small island in the middle sound. During WWII gun batteries were built on the top of it for defense of NZ. The batteries were no longer maintained but you could still go and see the ruins and old bunk house foundations. Our Kiwi friends from the night before gave me some tips on camping and hiking around the island.

Our calm morning ended about the time we launched the boats. The winds picked up and it started raining, more whining from Wilson about the weather. But he remained diligent in plotting our course in his GPS though. Our plan was to hug the coast until it was time to venture into the main sound for the crossing to Bromine. If the wind and waves were too much we could come back.

I don’t remember how far the open water crossing was to Bromine, I didn’t have the GPS. We picked a point on the island to aim to and essentially were attempting to ferry over in the wind. The crossing wasn’t so bad. It was probably a good 30 minutes of paddling, with a head wind. You had to keep going our you were going to get blown back up the sound. I remember thinking lots of thoughts. “What would happen if one of us flipped right now?” “At least we would be blown back to shore and not out to see.” “Not sure if I’m making any progress into this wind, but I’ll make the island. Worst case is I have to drift behind the island and paddle up the backside in the lee of the wind.”

We made the first landing where the official DOC campsite was without much trouble. At little lunch, and some recon for the campsite and we were off. The winds had seemed to calm some and we wanted to explore the gun barracks. At the landing for the gun barracks was another possible campsite. This campsite proved more sheltered from wind and rain, albeit a little muddier. As we hiked around the island we caught good views of the open water being blown around, I’m sure the waves were getting bigger. We were both glad we weren’t paddling anymore.

Setting up camp, Wilson was still disturbed by our lack of rope for the tarp. At one point, I actually caught him trying to take apart the rigging on his sea kayak. He finally settled to taking apart a clothes line that some other campers had left at the campsite. But still it wasn’t satisfying enough for him, more rope was needed, and more GPS coordinates. I couldn’t help with either. We did decide, at least I think it was a conscience decision, to drink bottles 3 and 4 of our wine. For some reason 4 bottles of wine, 3 nights and 2 guys seemed like the right amount. We were short by about 2 bottles. Oh well.

The next day the wind was still blowing, but it seemed calmer. We really wouldn’t no until we put out into the sound. We had several options this day:
1) Do nothing and paddle out early the next day to our water taxi rendezvous.
1) Paddle directly to our last campsite. It was going to be an open water crossing into a headwind, but should be slightly downwind
1) Paddle up to Long Island and then Moturua Island before heading to our camp for the night.
Ideally, #3 was our original intention. Moturua is supposed to be really good for birds, and seemed like a good goal to have in mind. It seemed on the map that the open water crossings would actually be shorter with option #3, though more into the wind. We decided to head to Long Island and see how the wind was. The wind was actually pretty calm, almost the whole way to Long Island. It wasn’t until we got to Long Island, that the wind really picked up. We stopped to take a break and the wind just seemed to really be picking up. What to do, what to do. I think we both were having doubts about making Moturua Island. But testosterone or safety in numbers kicked in, we decided to paddle out and see if we could make it. From Long Island we would have to paddle across the sound or back to Bromine anyway. We could easily make the decision from the water if we decided the wind and waves were too much. I think it took us about 30 minutes to get into the lee of Moturua. It was a hard, fought battle and we were excited and happy that we had made it. Though I think the constant rain was sort of dreary.

Oh yeah, we still had to paddle around to the windward side of the island to get to the dock where the trail to the lookout was. Now I’m not sure why on a rainy day, going to the lookout on top of a hill sounds like a good idea, but its what we did. There wasn’t much to see, and it was pissing rain the whole time. So many people later asked me about the birds on Moturua. I responded that they must have been smarter than us, because they weren’t out. I did see a Weta shell in a Weta house. Closest I ever came to a Weta. Today’s joke among weary paddlers was that we were only 90 miles across the Cook Strait to Wellington. We should paddle over and see the Rolling Stones who were playing there tonight. This was of course before Keith Richards fell out of the coconut tree in Fiji.

We were both too tired and wet to really want any lunch at Moturua. We were dreaming of maybe a cold beer, if the resort by our next campsite had a store. Besides the hardest part of the paddle was over. We just had a downwind paddle to our bay and campsite for the night. That was the wrong thinking. The downwind paddle with following seas was much harder than into the wind. It was more the seas coming from behind the boat than the wind I think. But every time the kayak was lifted up on a wave, you lost all ability to steer until you were dropped back into the trough. It was quite taxing. However we made it.

Yes, the resort, while basically closed, did have some warm beer and a bottle of wine. We were quite happy to take these and retreat to our campsite. Here we watched to Weka’s fight. Presumably they were fighting over which one would get to raid our campsite for food. By this time I think Mike had given fighting over the need for more rope. Besides I think we were both feeling a little dismal from all the rain the last 2 days. The beauty of the rain though was some of the best rainbows I’ve ever seen. Once again, New Zealand seemed to prove itself as the land of the rainbow. (On a side note, Ankiwa and Picton had glorious sunny days while we were in the sound. I blame that on Wilson)

The next day was beautiful and we packed up and took all of our gear over to the water taxi jetty at the resort. We still had several hours so we went for a hike. The plan was to hike to the Captain Cook monument on the other side of the hill. Mike made it, I got to the top of the hill and decided not to go any further. We were basically speed hiking to say we saw the monument and then coming back so as not to miss the taxi. I decided I’d rather go lay in the sun and that I didn’t need to see the monument.

I know I really enjoyed our time in the sound. I think even despite the wind and rain, Mike had a good time as well.

That isn’t the end of the adventure though. Back in town, I headed to the internet to check some emails and Mike went souvenir shopping. Somehow I found him in the hardware store. He was buying 50 meters of light cord for putting up a tarp, I think that was the biggest smile I saw on his face the whole time in NZ. I wasn’t sure when we would need the tarp again, but now we really had cord for it. And we never used the cord. Wilson tried to make me take the cord but I insisted he keep it as a NZ souvenir

The next day we rented mountain bikes. We biked by road out of Anikiwa around to Pelorus Sound and up the to where the Queen Charlotte track meets the road. We then biked back to Anikiwa. A glorious day. At the top, where the track meets the road, we took a side hike. Hike, because it was too steep and slippery for either of us to attempt to ride our bikes up or down it. The hike took us to the top of a lookout. Today was a beautiful day and we got a full view of a good portion of where we had kayaked. It was quite an impressive view. Pretty amazing where we had gone and what we had seen. At one point on the trail we saw 2 little dots of kayaks out in the sound. These dots could easily have been us, 3 days before.

So far we have sea kayaked, mountain biked, and hiked. That just left whitewater kayaking. So after the mountain biking we were off to Murch for some whitewater. Ok the trip to Murch really wasn’t that simple. After the sea kayaking I called the kayak school in Murch to see about renting gear. They were closed for the season, Easter Weekend had been their last weekend. We were distraught, but oh well, maybe more sea kayaking. That night, we crashed at Heather’s. Heather is a friend I met my first time through Murch. She is an Outward Bound instructor and lives in Anikiwa. She is also a rock star. I really can’t say enough for what she did for us. She let us clean and dry our gear at her place and crash at her house. We even watched Trainspotting. But more importantly, she found us whitewater paddling gear. Everything we needed and then some. How sweet, to have friends like that.

So Thursday evening at sunset we are headed to Murch. There were quite a few boats in the campground but not many people at the pub. In the morning I met Danielle, who I had heard Heather and LeAnn talk about before but hadn’t met and she gave us some good Beta on what was running. Though she wasn’t paddling that day. She told us to look for John Rice and a gang coming up from Christchurch that night. They would surely be going to the Glenroy the next day. We talked to a couple of guys that were headed over to the middle Matakitaki, a class II run with a great play wave on it. And then there was the huge group from Dunedin Canoe Club.

As for us, we decided to paddle the Earthquake section of the Buller. I had paddled it before, and it seemed like a good warm up river. It looked like it would just be Wilson and I in our group today. We just didn’t have it in us to paddle with 30 people we didn’t know. The river run was excellent. Much higher, than when I had paddled it before. There was now actually a hole at the bottom of Gunslinger. Today this rapid was reminiscent of Railroad rapid on the Nolichucky. Lots of lines and little holes to avoid, with a great big wave/hole at the bottom. We played in the wave a few times. Well actually attempted to play. I think we were both too chicken to really commit to getting full on in the hole. It looked big, and nasty. Somewhere on this section we got mixed in with the groups from Otago (DCC). Turns out there were about 30 of them up for the week. It was Spring Break and they had been up paddling all week. They were having a party that night and told us to come over. Actually it was more of a warning that they were going to be loud until all hours of the morning.

On the way to the party (because you know I had to go), I came across the Talking Tents. It was just strange because I saw I guy talking to these 3 tents. He walked away as I walked up, but the tents were still talking. I stopped to make a smart alec comment and ended up talking to the tents for about 30 minutes. It wasn’t until morning that I really knew who I was talking to. All I knew was that is was 3 tents with 3 girls (Leela, Sophia, and Lilly). They were all new to kayaking and paddle mostly class II stuff. The next day they were going down the middle Matakitaki. Then I went to the party, until it was busted up by the camp host and it was time for bed. I was hoping to get on the Glenroy in the morning, if not that the lower Matakitaki. A couple of the more sober guys from Otago said they might hid the lower Matak before they headed out.

They did go to the lower Matak, but I went to the middle Matak first. At breakfast Mike and I talked to John and he said he was taking the “talking tents” down the middle for his morning run. Afternoon, well maybe the Glenroy, or lower Matak. Glenroy might be low. We decided to clam onto his group, just so we were sure we didn’t miss the harder afternoon run. We were both glad we did. The middle Matak is very much a beginner river, but we had a great group of people to paddle with. There was John, the 3 Talking Tents, Angus (a C1er… maybe the only one in NZ), and Dan from the UK, plus the 2 Mikes. It was just a lazy paddle with probably more story telling and swapping then anything else.

John decided that the lower Matak was a better choice for the afternoon. He suggested that Wilson might want more of a creek boat for the Glenroy. I secretly think he wanted to see us paddle on something with some meat to asses our skills before taking us down the Glenroy. I don’t blame him for that either. I would want to do the same thing before I took 2 complete strangers down some class IV+ creek run.

The lower Matakitaki was amazing. It’s a short run, only 2-3kms. It is constant, class III-IV boogey water. Most of it is easily eddy hopped down, just avoid the rocks and holes. The last major rapid seems to go on forever. It’s longer than quarter mile on the Nolichucky, I think, and much harder. At one point there is a 90 degree turn, similar to F&%!(BADWIDTH)%! (MISSING)Up Falls on the Upper Yough. At this point you are only about halfway through the rapid. You still have several large waves and a couple of drops to negotiate. I of course flipped at the top of one of the drops and rolled up to realize that I wasn’t going to make my ferry. Luckily I managed to miss the hole at the bottom. From this point we all did the class V carry back up to run the bottom half of the rapid again. I managed to run it upright, but still didn’t hit the line I wanted.

No matter it was an excellent end to my whitewater days in New Zealand. (So I thought at the time, I didn’t know I would get on the Tongariro before leaving). Wilson did due diligence and now knows all the GPS coordinates for any place of interest around Murch. One thing that is definitely different about paddling in Murch compared to what we are used to, is the idea of multiple runs. I don’t just mean like running the Tellico multiple times in one day. I mean they paddle one section of river in the morning, then have lunch, and then go and paddle a different section. It seems like there are probably 10+ runs within 30 minute drive of Murch and most seem pretty short. I would say <3 hours without much effort. Its really a pretty sweet little whitewater Mecca.

Back at camp, Wilson and I unpacked and repacked the van. We had to sort out our gear from borrowed gear, wash for Didymo, and Wilson had to pack. Another big thanks to John for taking us down the Lower Matak, and also thanks for the dinner. It was great. My plan was to head out of Murch and hopefully get something on the way. Of course there wasn’t anyplace to eat between Murch and Blenhiem. So it was really great of John to share his food with us.

And boy was that a forever drive. First we had to go to Anikiwa and drop off Heather’s gear, then onto Picton. (Once again thanks Heather) Whenever we had cell coverage Mike was trying to call hotels and hostels in Picton that would still be open after 11 when we rolled in. We got in and promptly went out for our last beers. In the morning Wilson would start his 36 hours of travel back to the US (I don’t think it’s really that long). We would start by catching the early ferry to Wellington and then straight to the airport. After that, I’m on my one again and headed to Rotorua.

It was a good week. I’m glad Mike came over. Despite all of our bickering about rope and GPS coordinates, I really enjoyed the week. I was really stoked about going back to Murch when there was water and people paddling. What a place.

Ok, nough said.
I think you have all seen the pics, but if not, here is the link again.
Pictures of Queen Charlotte Sound

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