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Golden Bay
Opens up infront of usWe hit good fortune as we arrive in Wellington, chancing our arm at the ferry terminal we get put on a standby list and with our names called we are on the Ferry to the South Island. As with tradition on these things, a horn is sounded and observing on the top deck, we leave Wellington majestically, in the timeless fashion that you can't help but feel on a large ship, leaving a city port bound for open seas.
A middle-aged group of bikers "Road Hogs and Saucy Sows" as their uniform black tee shirts pronounced, would be crossing our paths at several points on the open road, shared the journey to the South Island that was very much like our cross channel ferries. The arrival was even more majestic than the departure with high wooded banks either side of the narrow channel we navigated, a small boat was horned out the way as we came into dock.
Driving through Motueka for information, we made our way to the Abel Tasman National Park climbing through a steep range before dropping into the beautiful Golden Bay valley. The Golden Bay vineyard offers a welcome break in
Camper Vines
Golden Bay Vinyard the late afternoon and we pick up a Pinot Noir for our efforts although both their '05 & '06 Chardonnays were both equally good reading from my tasting notes! At the winery owner's suggestion, we rested for the night on a wharf just outside of Pohura, large oyster floats like giant black puddings piled high near the sea wall while boat crews cleared away their boats for the evening.
A sunset made the clouds flamingo pink, no sound bar the occasional gull whom Emma fed bread while I took photos. Other campers saw our spot and decided to join in some illicit parking! The night was ended in a round of Yahzee and the luck of the roll was mine.
An early start to find kayaks on Tata Beach, quickly we made packed lunch and after some simple instruction and armed with flare and map, Emma and I found ourselves paddling out to sea and into this wonderful national park.
The first island we pass is literally teaming with spotted shags & Australasian Gulls. Resembling something similar to Heathrow airport as they flew in and out from perches virtually skimming the surface of the water. Their necks
fully extended gave them a far more sophisticated appearance to the way they gingerly pecked about on the shore. Seals dipped in and out of the water seemingly ignorant to our presence.
Past a flotilla of the black puddings we had a giggle over the night before, we pass another seal, flipper in the air as if to impersonate the dorsal fin of an orca. The sea bound mammal seemed to be sunbathing as he floated.
Onwards onto sandbanks, the water fizzing like champagne being poured into a glass as delicate shells were pushed and pulled by the lapping waves. The sand champagne also but in colour melted between toes on this shore untrodden except for the Oyster catchers gathering some distance away.
Back to sea and on to find a cove for us to rest for lunch in the sun. Not having one of her own, Emma read a chapter of my book to me as we enjoyed the solitude.
The inward tide made the return choppy and harder going but once we were around the bay, the wind was behind us and aiding our row back to shore. Circumnavigating small islands treated us to
a group of seals basking lazily on the rocks, snorting casually, heavy breath through their suede noses. Apart from that, only one showed signs of life with a half arsed attempt at a scratch, then a shuffle that almost saw him rolling off his perch and joining us in the rolling water.
Back on the road we drove through breathtaking valleys of vineyards and mountain with another apocalyptic sunset for some food in the mining town of Murchison and another night in the car park of a pub. I see a pattern emerging...
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pete
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Action Emma
I've looked everywhere in the shops and all I can find is Evil Emma. Nice king-fu grip though.