If you are back in the states it is most likely the end of summer and you are beginning to roll into that beautiful season……. Autumn. In the northeast the trees change to an endless array of orange, yellow, and brown. Where as if you are in the northwest, the outdoorsmen are soaking up the last of the ideal camping weekends and the river may actually be warm enough for my dad to take a quick dip. In Los Angeles, I am sure the weather is sunny and bikini season is well……. endowed. And for my friends in the south, it seems as though fall would be a welcome change to the hottest summer season on record (Junction, TX hasn’t had any rain since December). However, in New Zealand it is RUGBY season. I have tried and tried to wrap my mind around this game, but I just don’t get it. Now, I know I was never an avid sports fan. In fact, if you exclude my passion for vintage baseball card collecting and high school marching band, I don’t think that the Oi –Oi- Oi Gene of TV sports enthusiasts is anywhere in my DNA strands. That aside, when in Aotearoa, I am trying to gain a bit of understanding for the national passion. It’s not working! People have tried numerous times to explain it to me to no avail. I’ll tell ya the truth, if one more person tries to compare it to American football I may need to act on the feeling of choking them. The only thing these two have in common is that there is a ball, it’s usually played on grass, uprights, and the men who play it are gigantic! Jeanne and I saw one of the players on our way back from Tonga, and he was massive. To say he was built like a brick shithouse would be a bit of an understatement. Anywho, kiwiville is full swing into the rugby cup season, which is a huge deal for sports fans, and this has its repercussions. You have your typical enthusiastic hooligan decked out in the fanfare of their favorite team that ends up being one of the few people left “standing” at 6:30 in the morning when I go to catch the ferry. Wait…..I’m jumping ahead. Actually, now that I think about it, football also has the commonality of drunken machismo. The other major repercussion is that lodging costs rise faster than the price of petrol, and this includes the four-wheel variety.
Jeanne and I have been in the market for a camper van since we basically met. However, now that we are in the “Land of Clouds”, we are ready to take the step towards ownership. Now, as I am sure you are aware, we both have very specific desires when it comes to a vehicle of this nature. She is looking for versatility as far as space and also wants a deal on it. I have been more focused on ruggedness and Four-Wheel drive (it’s necessary to get to the really amazing fishing spots of course!). Well, we have been looking for months and it has been the same thing over and over. Something was missing. We could find a deal on a van but it would be too expensive, not a 4x4, unreliable brand, too small, too big, too much wear and tear, or…..we would get to the final hour of bidding and the owner would yank the sale with that friendly clause “reserve not met.” Unfortunately, the closer we get to rugby world cup the more and more inflated the sticker gets which is in direct correlation to the down turn of quality. The good ones are swept up for stupid prices and the cheap ones are simply crap. There is a positive, we bought one. I know, I know! What I haven’t yet told you is we finally bought one because I found a young guy from Virginia that has to move to Korea in a month and sold us his 4WD van for a reasonable price and it has almost everything we were looking for. Plus, I think that if we end up deciding that it isn’t the ideal vehicle for us, I should be able to sell it for a profit to a rugby nut. Go All Blacks!!!!
The purchase of a 1996 Mitsubishi Delica Space Wagon is the catalyst in an on time blog. As with all Danny stories, I can’t, nor want to do it the easy way. So, of course, the vehicle isn’t in Wellington, nor Auckland, not even the North Island…. It is in Nelson! ROAD TRIP!!!!
After taking care of the necessaries (i.e. packing, cash pick-up, wife approval, etc.) I set out. Keep in mind, I have calculated the cost of the road trip into the value of the vehicle and it is still a good deal. Bright and early Thursday morning I caught the cross-town bus from Hataitai to the ever-charming Courtney Place. Courtney place…..every city has one. This is the section of town where ya can’t pass more than three doors before stumbling into or out of a drinking establishment. In: NYC, the Upper West Side; Los Angeles, Hollywood Blvd or parts of Sunset; in Kissimmee, Pleasure Island; Austin Texas, 6th Street; in Spokane, the recently renovated downtown; in New Orleans, pretty much everywhere! Now, I believe the bars have a closing time but I have yet to figure out when that is! Some close early, some at 2, and then there are the after hours and the after after hours. The point, in order to get your cup o’ joe at 6:30am on Courtenay Place, you must que up behind the passionate rugby enthusiasts whom haven’t seen a bed, let alone sober, in over 12 hours. Anyway, I caught a shuttle from the local backpackers to the ferry terminal at ten past seven with my daypack and fishing rod. The trip was relatively event free and I boarded the ferry in preparation for my inaugural three and one half hour ride to Picton.
“Welcome aboard” the Kaitaki (Maori for “Challenger”). In the past I have taken ferry trips, but none like this. They usually consist of a large metal bulk freighter that is geared toward the transportation of vehicles with a mere snack stand for the passengers forced to sit on the cold metal benches. You would be lucky to find a mediocre cup of coffee and a bag of chips that wasn’t stale. Not in New Zealand! The Kaitaki is the largest ferry in NZ waters with room for 1600 passengers accompanied by three decks of passenger amenities. It is less like a ferry and more like a cruise ship. There are recliner seat lounges, a kids play area, a movie theater, two food courts, the Karori Rip Bar, a café, an enclosed lookout atrium, as well as sleeper cabins, nurseries, and for an extra cost: exclusive lounge and a members only truck stop! The ship was built in Holland in 1995 and houses a crew of 60 people to handle the traffic of up to 600 cars plus passengers. It is 181.6m long with a breadth of 23.4m at a weight of 22,365 tons. In order to run a vessel of this nature it is equipped with 4 Sulzer Type 8 ZAL 405 motors that are capable of speeds to 20.5 knots. For the non-gear head, it’s got a lot of powerful stuff that is extremely impressive in action. And this is for a good reason, it is known as the Karori Rip. It is a bit of a journey equipped with a history of peril. Considered to be two of New Zealand’s worst maritime catastrophes are the Penguin Disaster of 1909 and the sinking of the Wahine in 1968.
The SS Penguin set sail from Picton to Wellington on February 12th, 1909 on a peaceful day that turned disastrous. After striking poor conditions on the strait with minimal visibility the penguin struck heavily and began to sink. Women and children were evacuated first, which turned out to be a huge mistake. The lifeboats capsized and all of the children and all but one of the women on the voyage died. Of the 102 passengers a mere 30 survived. And in more recent times, the Wahine sank on the 10th of April 1968. A total of 51 people died in the water, 1 died two weeks after rescue, and another person died in 1990 from injuries that had been sustained from the incident. This was mainly due to sailing during one of the worst storms in NZ’s history, but also operation error by both captain and shore facilities.
As per all amazing road trips a theme becomes apparent. At first you may not recognize it, but eventually “it” appears. Usually my themes are geared towards fishing or the continued quest to find the “World’s Largest” (which there definitely is a bit of that), but in the vein of Captain Cook, the theme of this quick road trip is a bit of New Zealand history, both nautical and cultural.
Wellington (with a population of 200,000) and Picton (with a population of 4700) have been major trading ports since Abel Tasman introduced the islands to the Europeans in 1642, or possibly even earlier with the original discoverer, Kupe, pre 15th Century. Not to downplay Tasman’s achievements or the oral history of the Maori people, it was Captain Cook’s landing on the 16th of January 1770 that truly brought the glorious splendor of New Zealand into the global scene and his adventure is our primary focus. But to be fair and pay a bit of homage to the previous explorers, here is a bit of their history.
Maori history, although not documented with quill and ink, is passed from generation to generation through oral representation. Be it song, story, or dance, the history of the Maori people is quite colorful. According to Maori legend, the great navigator Kupe chased an octopus all the way from Hawaiki to New Zealand (Presumably in a canoe). After a great struggle, the octopus was finally killed in Whekenui Bay, on Arapawa Island near the entrance to Tory Channel. Actually, many of the local place names are associated with the event. Taonui-o-kupe (Cape Jackson) refers to Kupe’s longspear, Arapaoa (Arapawa Island) is said to be the scything downward arc of his weapon, and Kura-a-te-au (Tory Channel) refers to the schools of red krill that represent the wheke’s blood, according to the oh-so informative map provided for you by Interislander. For those of you that are curious, it is 4619 miles/ 7434 km/ 4014 nm (nautical miles) from the big island of Hawaii to Whekenui Bay.
Abel Tasman joined the Dutch East India Company in 1633. Due to his involvement with this iconic trade company, he spent numerous years at sea in the search of faster trade routes, new markets, and presumably spice. After spending time in both Mauritius and Tasmania, Tasman had intended to travel north but had to steer east due to unfavorable wind conditions. Upon his arrival to the south island on December 13, 1642, he named it Staten Landt on the assumption it was part of Argentina. His visit to New Zealand wasn’t the most pleasurable experience. While trying to make landfall, four of his crew were killed by Maori warriors. He named the bay Murderer’s Bay (now known as Golden Bay). Although not credited with the discovery of the strait, one of the “10 Great Walks of New Zealand” runs through the national park bearing his name.
I hope you are enjoying this cuz ever since I saw Master & Commander I have fallen in love with the early exploration by sea and sail. Through my adult traveling life I have run into Capt. Cook in numerous locals. The first was on the big island of Hawaii. He is credited with the discovery of the Sandwich Islands. While on the island I went a bit nuts and jumped off the southern most cliffs of the U.S. where Cook had moored his ships. They were much bigger than the one I had to avoid in order to hit the water without incident. On another trip, I ran into him again in the Dominican Republic. Although Christopher Columbus is the more notable figure in Dominican history, Cook does have a brief mention. And again the captain and I crossed paths when I was fortunate enough to be able to attend the wedding of two of my closest friends in the U.S. Virgin Islands. So, it is fortuitous that he would not evade me during our exploits in the southern hemisphere!
a few of my usual fishing spots and romping grounds. I took the opportunity to enjoy these spots more from the fish perspective rather than the fisherman for a change. This is when I discovered “the route map.” It points out a few of the sights of significance along our journey. The first of which that we encountered was Matiu (Sommes Island). Had to do a bit of research, but this is definitely colorful history! The name Matiu comes from the daughter of Polynesian explorer and original discoverer of the islands, Kupe. In 1840, after European settlement, it was renamed Sommes after the Deputy Governor of the New Zealand Company (geared towards colonizing New Zealand for Industrial development). Originally it was used by the Maori as a very important pa site (defense fortress) and has continued that role throughout different times since. Shortly after the island was established for use by the NZC, the ever so famous Sommes Lighthouse was built in 1866. However, this is not the lighthouse of today that we usually assume is the original because it was replaced by the current lighthouse that was built in its stead in 1900. Anyway, being that it is situated in the middle of Wellington Harbor and a key piece of property owned by a transportation company, it became the equivalent of Ellis Island. For more than 100 years sea travelers (both the human and animal variety) would be quarantined and deloused on the island before being allowed to enjoy the quaint boutiques and cafes of nearby Wellington city. In fact, if we had moved here prior to 1995, Misiu would have obtained first hand knowledge of the island during his 30 to 60 day stay. During the 19teens and also the 1940’s, the island was transformed again into a people holding facility, but this time it was for POWs from the Great War and the Great War part deux. During this time an anti-attack us battalion was installed on the island but never used. Now it has been reclaimed as a park and tourist destination after the veil of secrecy about Sommes was eradicated in 1997. This is all well and good but the part that caught my attention was that it was once also a leper colony: population 1. 
Once reaching Miramar Peninsula and begin to enter Fitzroy Bay, we are given the send-off wave by Pencarrow Head. It isn’t a world’s largest, but it is the oldest lighthouse in New Zealand (1859). The beginning of our open water portion of the voyage remains quite close to the North Island until we pass Sinclair Head, the haul-out area for NZ seals (fur not military). Welcome to the scary part of the trip: the Karori Rip. We have delved a bit into the major catastrophes around this area but not the actual rip itself. The Karori Rip is an “area of tidal turbulence just off Cape Terawhiti caused by the ocean currents. As these deep currents are forced quickly to the surface when they meet the shallow waters near Karori Rock on the southwest coast, they create a stretch of rough water when the tide flows. There are also upwellings of water to the surface when deep currents are forced along the Cook Strait between New Zealand’s North and South Islands. Loved by fisherman and feared by helmsman, the Karori Rip can be seen in windy weather, and is also possible to spot as a rougher patch of water in calm seas”. Captain Cook experienced her mighty force after leaving Queen Charlotte Sound in 1770 when he narrowly avoided disaster.
The Endeavor was becalmed when the wind dropped and our lovely rip tide threatened to carry the ship to the bottom with the help of The Brothers, a formidable rock formation. Although the weather was overcast with a bit of rain and I kept having film reels from the Te Papa museum of shipwrecks run through my mind, we were fortunate to sail on moderate seas in the safety and comfort of the Karori Rip…….Bar.
After barely escaping with our lives from the rip we enter Rauteawa, believed to be a mere inlet by Abel Tasman in 1642, that is a 22km strait that in true explorer fashion is renamed after it’s European discoverer: Cook Strait. Perhaps, since I am now exploring it, we should rename it once again to Caldwell Strait (got a nice ring to it!). Because our direction of travel is opposite to his, Cooks lookout has yet to arrive but bare with me.
Cook Strait is 22km wide at its narrowest point and has an average depth of 128m (420 feet). The origin and meaning of the Maori name has been obscured over time. What we do know is that the English name first appeared on Cook’s charts in 1770. Cook confirmed the existence of the strait when, from Ship Cove, he climbed to the top of a hill on Arapawa Island and saw clear passage to the East. The strait can be flat, calm and peaceful. However, it is frequently subjected to strong winds with an average of 22 gales each year.
One of the many highlights of the strait is that it is home to more than 20 species of whale. Southern Right whales, so common in the 1800’s, that while “rooting” in the strait a visitor lodged a formal complaint that they kept him awake all night! Branching off a bit from Cook, this was whale-hunting territory from the 1790’s until 1964. This, in turn, brings us to another one of NZ’s oldest. The first shore-based whaling station was established in 1820 at Te Awaite in Tory Channel. Originally the whalers targeted the Southern Right, but once their numbers started to decrease the range grew to include a broader scale composed of Humpback, Sperm, and Blue. After the last of the whaling stations closed, there have been signs of recovery with an average of 300 migratory Humpbacks now using the strait each year. My hopes were high, but unfortunately I wasn’t lucky enough to see one. Although the strait is known for its whales, there is another mammal that is equally as well known: Pelorus Jack. The first Wellington PJ, not to be confused with the film director, was a well-loved dolphin.
Taken straight from factoidz: “Pelorus Jack was a Risso dolphin, a beakless species quite rare in New Zealand. In fact, there may have been only ever twelve Risso dolphins sighted in that part of New Zealand. For 24 years Pelorus Jack escorted ships sailing between Wellington and Nelson. He escorted them throughout the eight-kilometer journey from the entrance of Pelorus Sound in the Marlborough Sounds to the beginnings of the treacherous waters of French Pass between D’Urville Island and the mainland. He loved to swim up against the boats and playfully ride the bow waves. PJ became so famous that tourists would make the trip from Wellington, especially to see him. In 1910 he even appeared on the cover of the Christmas issue of the London News. In New Zealand a postcard was produced depicting the dolphin. Pelorus Jack led ships safely through the strait during a time when shipwrecks were quite common, and is believed to be the first ever sea creature protected by law. An incident did happen in 1904, when someone aboard the SS Penguin shot at the dolphin with a rifle. Fortunately his shot missed its mark and no harm was done. However, although PJ continued to guide other ships, he never again helped the Penguin. The Penguin eventually shipwrecked in 1909. After this incident, law protected all Risso dolphins in Cook Strait. In September of 1904 an Order-in-Council under the Sea Fisheries Act was passed, specifically to protect Pelorus Jack. The last time PJ was seen was in 1912. His disappearance was a mystery, although many rumors circulated about what happened to him. The most likely reason for his disappearance is that he died a natural death from old age. He was believed to have been at least 25, which is about the average lifespan of Risso dolphins. Other stories include a local lighthouse keeper seeing the carcass of a washed up dolphin and a man, in later years talked of how, as a boy, he’d helped his father kill a stranded dolphin after a storm.
No matter what did become of Pelorus Jack, he will remain a NZ legend. Since 1989 the Interisland ferries (which I am on) traveling between the North and South Islands have been adorned with the symbol of a dolphin, no doubt that Pelorus will continue his service of protection.”
There is yet another mammal that swims the strait. The first person reputed to swim the strait from Kapiti Island to Rangitotu was a Ngati Kuia woman named Hinepoupou in the 18th century. She apparently swam for 3 days and was accompanied on her journey by another famous dolphin: Kahurangi. At some point in the 1830’s, another Maori is said to have swum back to the South Island in an Alcatrazesque prison escape. That being established, the first recorded successful swim was completed by Barrie Devenport in November of 1962 with a time of 11 hours and 20 minutes. Since then the feat has been accomplished more than 70 times, the fastest of which was 4 hours and 37 minutes (which is amazing considering my ferry crossing is a 3.5 hour trip). The youngest swimmer to complete the challenge was 11.
Once successfully completing the first leg of the crossing, it was time for breakfast. An explorer must have sustenance and my breakfast of choice is the “traditional” kiwi breakfast (mainly because it was on special for $10). It consisted of scrambled eggs, 2 sausages, 2 pieces of bacon, baked tomato, and a hash brown wedge (which I got two in place of the toma-toe). And I gotta tell ya, it was pretty darn tasty! As I finished my well-balanced meal of meat, eggs, and more meat we arrived at the beginning of the South Island. The first bay we reached was Whekenui Bay, the final resting place of Kupe’s giant octopus. As we entered the channel I discovered the oldest whaling station established in the 1820’s (Te Awalte) and the Perano Whaling Station that is currently being restored. Although there are a few scattered homes and businesses, it is very much the same as when Cook arrived. What an amazing site. The Marlborough Sound is the northern fjordlands and considered to look similar to Norway, minus the glaciers. With its rugged slopes laced in a green blanket and accompanied by jagged, rocky shores, the view is breathtaking.
As we progress through Tory Channel, named after Capt. Edward Chaffers ship Tory (which surveyed the area in 1839), we not only pass the historical location of John and Elizabeth Guard’ s whaling station of the 1820’s but also the modern businesses of mussel and oyster farms. New Zealand is renown for their green-lipped mussels, which are considered to be one of the finest eating mussels in the world. And from personal experience, they are pretty damned good! As we reach Cook’s Lookout, the route map reminds me to point out another “colorful” part of the Cook trip and local history. At this point on my adventure I am listening to one of my favorite podcasts thanks to my friend Tim: This American Life. The episode is focused on fathers. With multiple stories about people’s relationships with their fathers, the highlight was a story involving a young woman and her American immigrant father. The premise, which is a true account, is facing the issue of a father being able to say the words “I Love You” to his kids. Belonging to the Jewish faith, the man’s cantor set forth a challenge to the dad of calling his children every day for a month and admits that he loves them. You’d have to listen to the episode, but the daughter saved the messages on her machine and they are hysterical! “Naomi, this is the third day, and I missed yesterday. So I am telling you I love you twice. Once for yesterday and I love you once for today. I cannot wait till the month is over”. This was his second message, which would be his last!
It was right about now that I noticed this sign. Yikes! Anyway, with the advantage of modern technology, I proceeded to laugh my way through Tory channel, but Captain Cook’s experience was not nearly as amusing. What exactly took place at Grass Cove in the Queen Charlotte sound on the 17th of October 1773 may never be fully known. The known points are that some of his crew formed a landing party and none would return. One of the misfortunate swabbies was a Mr. Woodhouse and his dog. The incident unfolded to Cook through the eyes of Burney, one of his crew that landed after the incident. Part of his eyewitness account:
inquired of them about the boat, to which they pretended ignorance. They appeared very friendly here & sold us some fish. Within an hour after we left this place, in a small beach adjoining Grass Cove we saw a very large double canoe just haul up, with 2 men & a dog. The men on seeing us left their canoe & ran up into the Woods—this gave one reason to suspect I should here get tidings of the Cutter. We went ashore & search’d the canoe where we found one of the Rullock ports of the Cutter and some shoes, one of which was known to belong to Mr. Woodhouse, one of our Midshipmen. One of the people at the same time brought me a piece of meat, which he took to be some of the Salt Meat belonging to the Cutter’s Crew. On examining this & smelling to it I found it was fresh. Mr. Fannin (the Master) who was with me supposed it was Dog’s flesh & I was of the same opinion, for I still doubted their being cannibals, but we were soon convinced by most horrid & undeniable proofs—a great many baskets (about 20) laying on the beach tied up, we cut them open: some were full of roasted flesh and some of fern root, which serves them for bread. On further search we found more shoes & a hand, which we immediately knew to have belonged to Thos Hill one of our Forecastlemen, it being marked T. H. with an Otaheite tattow instrument. I went with some of the people a little way up the Woods, but saw nothing else. Coming down again was a round spot covered with fresh earth about 4 feet diameter, where something had been buried. Having no spade we began to dig with a Cutlass, in the meantime I launched the canoe with an intention to destroy her, but seeing a great smoke ascending over the nearest hill, I got all the people in the boat and made what haste I could to be with them before sunset.
As we round Diefenbach Point (named after NZC surgeon and naturalist, Dr. Ernst Dieffenbach), near the end of our treacherous journey through Tory Channel and arrive in the Queen Charlotte Sound, I finish the podcast and become more and more engrossed in one of the most popular holiday areas. Queen Charlotte sound is the easternmost of the main sounds and is formed in a drowned river valley. She is known for her calm waters and is quite popular among sailing enthusiasts. Also, this is the point in our adventure that we come across a vessel of explorers that have preceded us, but we are most likely on a different mission: To obtain a camper van!
Once reaching Shakespeare Bay and making landfall of my own in Picton, I jump on a bus for yet another long commute to the city of Nelson. Along the way I enjoy a quick view of Marlborough County. The most notable thing about Marlborough, besides the sound, is their world-class Sauvignon Blanc. It is a “region of beauty, where water, wine and wilderness combine to create a relaxing escape. It is an environmental haven, with winding waterways, sheltered bays and native forests and includes the famous Queen Charlotte Track. Inland, the Wairau and Awatere Plains sweep towards rugged mountains, carpeted in vineyards, olive groves and cherry trees. Marlborough is abundant with local produce from wild meats (all introduced, non-native) and seafood to nut oils and heritage vegetables”. Unfortunately, due to the available time for my stay, I had to appreciate it from the window seat of a bus! However, after a two-and-a-half hour ride my freedom was restored after meeting a very charming man from Virginia and purchasing the sought after Delica.
And, of course, the first thing on the agenda was finding an amazing fishing spot! After referring to my sacred bible of fishing spots, X Spot, I ended up in an amazing little spot named cable bay. The road to cable bay is that of the typical NZ back roads in that they are anything but straight. Also true is, at the end of every back road is a treasure to be explored. When I reached cable bay it was stunning, but a wee bit different. This particular bay uses the road as a retaining wall. On the left is the rounded bay with the waves lightly crashing on the rock beach and on the right is a marshy swampland that seems ideal for mollusks. Under the description of spot 6 or 7 in the X spot, you park in the parking area and venture down the beach 400m. Once here you will need to cast a minimum of 50m to clear the underwater rock shelf and reach the sand. As described I made my way down the beach to what I believed would be aproximately 400m (still working on the realization of the metric system so not actually sure how far I went) and set up shop. It wasn’t the ideal day for fishing, a bit cloudy with a persistent drizzle. Still, no day fishing is a bad day fishing. So like usual I sat like a jerk in the rain waiting for a jerk on the line. Nothing. Not a bit, byte, strike or hit. The book said that it was the best at dawn and dusk, and being that the sun was beginning to go down, I stuck around for quite awhile, but nothing ever came of it…… well not at least as fishing is concerned. So, what I forgot to mention is that once I parked in the designated area and made my way to the trailhead there was a sign that stated the trail was closed till September for “sheeping”. Not a problem just took the beach route and made myself comfortable. However, and I am not proud of this portion of my adventure, as I proceeded to tempt the lil creatures of the sea with a variety of squid, pilchards and trevally, the tide had continued to come in. I knew that high tide was on its way but hadn’t realized how far it actually had come in by the time it was starting to get dark! Oops! So, as I made my way back down the beach towards the van I came upon a problem, the walk-able portion of the beach was well underwater with an impassible monolith directly between the water and hillside. I gave it a few attempts to see if there was another way around. The only other option that I saw was climbing the electric fence into the “sheeping” and hope for the best. Well, as with all captains, you must be able to make hard decisions. Cook had The Brothers during a Windfall and I have High Tide in Cable Bay. Mom would be proud, but I took off my shoes and socks and put them in the cooler with the array of fishing baits and proceeded to enter the water. Let me remind you, for those folks not in the Southern Hemisphere, of our proximity to Antarctica and the fact that it is winter. The water was COLD! But a captain must stick to his guns and trudge on through his hard decision. Making sure that I did not loose my footing and end up nose deep, I slowly made my way around the monolith as the waves continued to crash against my miserable self. Not to bad thus far. As I reached the final stretch of the monolith there it was….. a very small cove before the second monolith. Shit, forgot about that one. Now it was inevitable, I’m gonna get soaked. Three steps later the water has now risen to the jewels! Anywho, eventually I did make it to the beach in full jaw chatter and proceeded to the van. One small problem. Being that I was only coming across for all of a day and a half, I only brought one pair of pants! Yup, no shorts, no extra boxers, just a bag with an extra t-shirt and pair of socks. Fortunately I did have a pair of long underwear that I had brought just in case it turned a bit chilly (refer to previous blog and the camping in the car scenario). In true fashion, my new adorned outfit would be a pair of long underwear, T-shirt, and a half soaked jacket. I planned on using whatever inner parts of the van I could to dry the clothes overnight and all would be good. Well….. half way back into Picton while trying to find a place to camp, the vehicle decided it was running out of gas even though the gauge said 1/4 of a tank. Perfect. It just so happens that I was reasonably close to a gas station, but here is the kicker. One of the endearing things about most of New Zealand is it has the vibe that I imagine the US had in the fifties. It is easy to find a mom n’ pop dinner or a great little café. The people are extremely welcoming and until recently crime has been almost absent. These are the good things. What comes along with that quaintness is hours of operation. The majority of stores close between 5 and 6pm, and this includes petrol stations. Now, in most places throughout the states it doesn’t matter what time you need to fill up because they have that absolutely outstanding invention called a card reader. In most of the countryside of Aoetorea these do not exist. Dilemma. Do I go for it and chance running out of gas tonight and hope for a car reader or do I simply pull over and wait until manana. The two biggest factors in the mix are that it may get cold this evening and using the heater will require petrol and there was another fishing spot along the way that the X said was good after dark. Screw it! I went for it and got lucky. Made it to the gas station with the van kickin and spittin. It was during this time, nozzle running, that I received a call from the gentleman that I bought it from in an attempt to warn me about the gas gauge. He had forgotten to tell me, and it had occurred to him at work, that the gas gauge was off and that 1/4 of a tank means empty. I appreciated the call.
With my sails full of petrol octane I continued down the road to that little spot in the book and it was near the same scenario: beautiful place and no fish. Well, it was now pushing 2 am and I decided to get a little bit closer to Picton and camp. Low and behold I found a great spot that didn’t have the annoying “no camper van parking” signs and called her quits.
But what I found interesting is the floating piles of deforestation that may have been left behind from the struggle between Kupe and Wheke. It seemed, at first, to be quite the eye sore but as the sign continued it actually became quite a cool relationship between our need for lumber and the fragility of our natural landscape. Once upon a time, Kaipupu point was entirely forested until farming began here in the 1880’s. The native bush to the Picton side of Kaipupu Point is reminiscent of the original forest cover of New Zealand. Today industry sits alongside nature with the bustling Shakespeare Bay deep water shipping port below. This area was also home to the Picton Freezing Works which closed in 1983 What they have done is set up two distinct areas, one for tree farming and the other a pristine nature reserve. In fact, they have also installed a predator fence protecting the reserve peninsula from the imported animals that now roam throughout New Zealand which include not only possums and rabbits, but also deer and wild pigs.
As we come to the end of our brief exploits in the South Island, I return to Picton. Picton has always been a major supply and processing town for the sounds, but it is also an important link between the North and South Islands. Originally known as Waitohi by the early Maori inhabitants, whaling, gold rushes, the railway, and more recently inter-island ferries, tourism and the aquaculture industry, have all contributed to Picton’s prosperity and growth according to yet another informative sign. However, what it fails to mention is that one of the coolest attractions in Picton is the Edwin Fox.
Built at Sulkeali on the Ganges Delta, India in 1853, as a Moulmein Trader, The Edwin Fox was the last of her type. Before we continue with the brochure version do you know why ships are referred to as feminine? I found this rather interesting. According to a tea mug from the H.M.S. Victory “a ship is called a she because there is always a great deal of bustle around her; there is usually a gang of men about; she has a waist and stays; it takes a lot of paint to keep her good looking; it is not the initial expense that breaks you, it is the upkeep; it takes an experienced man to handle her correctly; and without a man at the helm she is absolutely uncontrollable. She shows her topsides, hides her bottom and, when coming into port, always heads for the buoys’ as written by Ann Andrusysszyn of Ontario, Canada. Anywho, back to the Fox. Similar to those built for the
East India Trading Company she was constructed exclusively of Teak and Saul timber in just 9 months. She was sold to George Hodgkinson of London prior to her launching and named the Edwin Fox. On her maiden voyage to London via the Cape of Good Hope she carried 10 passengers and a general cargo. Less than a year later she was purchased by Duncan Dunbar and was immediately put into service with the British Government as a troop ship for the Crimean War, reputedly carrying such illustrious passengers as Florence Nightingale. After the fall of Sebastopol she was refitted out to again carry civilian passengers and general cargo. Edwin
Fox made her first voyage to the Southern Ocean on 14 February 1856 carrying 5 passengers and some cargo arriving in Melbourne on 28th May. She then spent a period trading between various Eastern ports culminating in a contract to carry 300 coolies from what was then Swatow in China to Cuba where they were destined to work in the cane fields. Large amounts of extra water had to be taken on this voyage. In 1858 she was again chartered by the British Government to transport convicts to Freemantle in Western Australia. Between 1858 and 1872 Edwin Fox was used primarily for 2 purposes: to sail between England and the East as a
trader carrying a range of cargoes including several trips to India carrying a pale ale earning her the nickname of “Booze Barge” and as a troop ship again, making several voyages with troops from the UK to Bombay. The return voyages were with casualties: many dying en route. As far as is known these voyages ended Edwin Fox’s role as a troop transport. Duncan Dunbar died in 1863 and Edwin Fox was sold to Gallatly, Hankey and Company of London. In 1873 the ship was chartered by Shaw Savill Company to carry immigrants to New Zealand from England. She was to make 4 such voyages carrying a total of 751 passengers to the new colony. A number of ‘incidents’ around this period have been recorded in the ships log. On the first voyage she ran into a storm in the Bay of Biscay and was severely damaged. The ships doctor was killed having been impaled on a metal rod. A seaman was killed trying to secure one of the ships boats and a young girl was swept overboard only to be swept back onboard again by the next big wave. There were many other incidents on subsequent voyages. By the 1880’s the age of steam had arrived and the sheep industry in New Zealand was booming. Edwin Fox was fitted as a floating freezer hulk and was used as such in several South Island ports. She was finally towed to Picton arriving 12th January 1897 where she has remained ever since initially as a freezer ship, later as a coal hulk and now preserved under cover as a prominent tourist attraction.
What the brochure leaves out is that it was left to rot in one of the many bays located in Marlborough Sound and it took an amazing feat of nautical engineering to get her to float again and be able to make the final move in 1999 to her final resting place. What is so cool about this ship in particular is that it is the: 9th oldest ship in the world; The sole remaining wooden sailing ship that transported troops and supplies to the Crimean War of 1854; The only surviving wooden ship that transported convicts to Australia (1858: which I do have a complete roster of the prisoners and their crimes which I am sure will turn out to be quite the colorful history); New Zealand’s only surviving wooden sailing ship that brought immigrants to NZ in 1873. Plus, it is just damned cool that the way they display the ship allows you to not only go inside and below deck, but also below the entire vessel! After being attacked by the Toledo Worm for who knows how long, she now can rest in the harbor amongst the newer versions of her class and the cheeky SS Echo that has been turned into a café.
On his return route, Cook decided to visit the Hawaiian Islands once more after the overwhelming success of his first visit. When he reached Hawaii the first time his reception was that of a god, because the locals believed that he was just that. However, not fully realizing the Polynesian culture, he would now undertake a grave mistake. In the Polynesian belief, once a ‘god’ visits you they are not supposed to return. I believe this would have become apparent to Cook when the locals attacked him with spears after trying to regain one of his boats. Unfortunately, unlike Pelonius Jack, those shots had hit their mark and the Captain never got the chance to change his mind. What he did get was an unusual funeral ritual. This consisted of his heart being divided in hors d’oeuvres for the local chiefs, his hands stuffed with salt and preserved, and many of his bones spread across the island or given as trinkets to other local chiefs. Eventually his remaining remains were handed over to his crew shrouded in a white cloak with black feathers. Fortunately, my return trip did not have the same conclusion. I once again returned to the Karori Rip Bar, ordered a beer, and began to transcript my adventure for your enjoyment….. rather than BBQ-ing my organs for your enjoyment! And you could say that I received a bit of pomp and circumstance with the arrival of the new vessel. We had previously purchased tickets for Revolver Circus for the evening show, and it was outstanding.
With the safe arrival of my complete captain and crew, I am already dreaming of the next adventure. Never would have thought that a Leo would be a water sign, must be the influence of the cusp!
