On the 09:30 Stewart Island ferry the captain says it may not be a smooth crossing. He’s not wrong. A good 25kts over a lumpy Southern Ocean sea and half the passengers experience breakfast for a second time. A group of backpackers are regretting last night’s drinking. They are the first to cave in. By now the catamaran is falling off waves.
When we pass the Muttonbird Islands the sea calms a little. There are 70 of them, home to brown shearwaters (mutton birds). A favourite Maori snack, they are subject to a traditional harvest every March by the local tribe. There are loads out here, skimming the waves along with Cape Petrels, which I’ve not seen since the Drake Passage off South America.
Out on the rear deck I gasp in awe. Albatross, everywhere ! Buller’s, to be precise, maybe some Royals in there too. They keep us company throughout the hour’s journey. One stays close, only leaving as we tie up to the quay in Oban. My friend ! I am grinning so hard my face hurts. Love these birds.
With less than a day on the island, a tiny car saves us having to run everywhere. With every bay and beach it’s clear why people visit. It’s beautiful.
A giant chain sculpture in the dunes connects with Stirling Point at Bluff. Mental note to revisit and locate it.
‘Bathing Beach’ is irresistible; the water clear, the sandy beach deserted and little wind. To my friend’s disbelief I rapidly don a bikini and wade in. Sure, it’s pretty darn cold, but very refreshing. Getting out I feel the pull of the water and go back in and swim the whole bay. I feel fabulous ! Such a buzz.
Back in Oban we head to the diminutive picture house* to watch a film about Stewart Island, through the eyes of the owner’s dog, Lola. I am introduced and she politely shakes a paw. In a comfy chair with popcorn and blanket, this is a great find. Seems Prince Harry thought so too.
Our hotel doubles as the island’s pub. All local life is in the bar. It’s full to bursting with oyster fishermen and tourists, both obvious to each other. We recognise a few faces from our 5 hours in the town. I imagine spending a week here would put you on first names terms with all 400 residents. Reminds me of the Isles of Scilly.
Supper consumed, we join 7 others for a Kiwi presentation. Armed with useful information it’s back on the ferry. 40 minutes later we arrive at a small wooden jetty in a bay. On what is an isthmus of land between protected national park and Maori reserve, we walk silently through the bush to the other side. Every so often our guide signals for us to stop and listen. The sea roars through the trees. No one speaks. After 20 minutes or so we reach a long, sandy beach on the other side of the isthmus. Now pitch dark, the sky is crammed with stars. The wind’s offshore and waves crash on the sand. Walking slowly along the shoreline, our guide sweeps the beach with a red torch. We whisper only when essential.
It begins raining. I wonder if this is worth it. But after another 20 minutes or so it certainly is. A wild Kiwi ! Barely visible in the red light, he’s trotting along, digging in the sand with his long beak. After 5 minutes the light switches to white. As Kiwis are usually light sensitive (they are generally nocturnal) this should scare him off, but he stays, oblivious to our presence. Their eyes are hopeless, but hearing is sharp. Standing between sea and Kiwi, our noises are drowned out. Fascinated, we watch him darting back and forth, rooting for grubs, worms and flies.
We keep pace for 10-15minutes, amazed at our good fortune. Most New Zealanders have never seen a Kiwi in the wild. Mind you, probably fewer have been to Stewart Island ! With the long hours of daylight down here, Kiwis have learnt to deal with little darkness, so will tolerate a little torchlight. On the return ferry I reckon the skipper would appreciate that torch. I’ve never seen it so dark at sea. There just is no light pollution here.
Sadly we must leave at 8am the next morning. At least the weather is kinder and the crossing smooth. A wonderful sunrise brings out mobiles and cameras. I’m comforted to know a pair of albatross are accompanying us safely back to Bluff. Stewart Island is an amazing place and I’d love to return one day.
At Stirling Point we find the other end of the ‘chain’. Joining these two sets my resolve. I’ll go to Cape Reinga at the other end of SH1 in North Island. I reckon there’s another signpost there.
Heading along the coast to Dunedin, the mix of marsh, lakes, cliffs, surf and beaches is spectacular. Every few miles there is something to see but we’re short on time. After an unexpectedly superb breakfast, two lighthouses, one sealion, several dirt tracks and lots of deer, we arrive in Dunedin. It’s a bustling place, but we’re shattered. Checking into the motel I’m distracted by the tv playing in reception. A live video link of a fluffy albatross chick in it’s nest, just down the coast from here**.
What a fabulous couple of days !