RTW Leg 19: Aoteroa

The Land of the Long White Cloud

Zeeland is an archipelago of islands and peninsulas off the south coast of The Netherlands and it was after this region that the Dutch explorer Abel Tasman named the land he discovered in 1642: “Nieuw Zeeland”. It took Captain James Cooke another 127 years to arrive on the scene affording Tasman the no quibbles credit as the first European to set foot ashore the land of the long white cloud.

380 odd years on, Lucy and I stepped ashore and whilst history will not remember the moment by building a commemorative statue nor naming a national park after us, it was nevertheless a momentous event for the crew of Broadsword encapsulated by the palpable relief that we’d made it thus far with all hands accounted for. Broadsword now looked forward to a forced sabbatical of six months imposed by the cyclone season to do its best back up in the tropics.

We had always planned to return to the UK for Christmas in Edinburgh with the family and New Year on Coll with friends however our plans were adjusted with a longer trip home to accommodate some unexpected work with Maximillion. In early February we returned to Broadsword and prepared ourselves for our Grand Tour of New Zealand, hiring an elegant silver 2015 Toyota Corolla saloon (named Hawkwind) for 45 days and planned to introduce some inspired variety to our accommodation experience with a range of prestigious luxurious back packer lodges, DOC (Department of Conservation) huts and Red Nelly, our ever reliable and almost waterproof tent. Respite from the rigors of sharing dormitories with teenagers and tramps, would on occasion be afforded by a hot bath curtesy of sympathetic friends who took pity on us, put us up, and put up with us, for one night, maximum two, never three.

Hawkwind: our trusty chariot that accumulated 6,000 km on our road trip.

Dear Reader, it would be inconceivably dull for me to now launch into a day by day, hour by hour, run through of our trip and to spare you this literary horror we have thought, in the spirit of the eponymous Rough Guides, that we would offer you our highlights. Our ten favorites, the best bits, the recommended must do’s, what we enjoyed most and will endure for longest. Ladies first, Lucy will start with her top five, I follow up the rear with mine.

Red Nelly

WARNING. We have six months to cover, inevitably this dispatch is a little longer than our regular bulletin. Stick with it!

Marlborough Sounds

After a fairly exhausting journey from the North Island to the South Island which involved a conundrum of broken down and cancelled ferries (ironic, we know!), we eventually arrived into Picton. Here we had to hastily rearrange our gear, as we were to be picked up by water taxi to take us to Hopewell Lodge. Hopewell Lodge is nestled in the Marlborough Sounds and is a fantastically laid out mini resort which surpassed our expectations. Mike came and picked us up in his boat and we enjoyed the beautiful journey across the sounds! Mike and Lynley are incredible hosts and the have developed a cluster of accommodation huts and communal areas; a huge kitchen and comfy seating area. There would be about 4/5 families getting their meals prepared and no one seemed to get in the way of each other. Our wee bedroom was at the far corner of the complex and our balcony literary hanging over the bay. Apparently three years previously the residents of our room had complained of the noise one night, as a pair of Orca whales were frolicking about in the water below.

Our room with our view

On the second morning we borrowed a bucket and oyster shuckers and head off and forage on the foreshore for our supper. Kayaks, standup paddle boards and small boats were all provided and the Captain and First Mate managed a fairly domestic free double kayak paddle followed by a chilly swim and a night stroll to dance with the glow worms in the pitch dark. It was all totally bliss and a wonderful way to start our visit to the South Island.

Foraging for oysters at low tide

Invercargill

When we told people we wanted to go to Invercargill, the most common reply was …’why?’

There is not much to the town and it’s a bit down at heel. But not many of you will know this, but the First Mate is a quarter Kiwi. My maternal grandmother was bought up in Invercargill and I wanted to go and find the house where she lived, it all felt a bit like I was on ‘Who do you think you are.’ But more sleuthing resulted in finding No 9 Albert St, which had hardly been changed over the years. It was weird and wonderful thinking about my lovely granny growing up there. The lady who was renting it, invited us in to have a look around which was incredibly kind. Touching door handles that she might have held was all a wee bit emotional.

The elegant Edwardian town house built by Lucy's great grand parents.

Another reason to go to Invercargill is E Hayes & Son. E Hayes is a monster tool shop. Why would the first mate have any interest in going to a tool shop, apart from seeing the Captain appear round the corner with a spanner nearly half his size, saying, “I really want this… please can I buy it!” Because, dotted around between the washing machines, mowers and tools are a magnificent collection of vintage cars and motorbikes, including the Indian Scout motorbike, the ‘World’s Fastest Indian.’ This bike and various ‘extras’ for the film belonged to Invercargill legend, Burt Munro, who set world land speed records. His last one being at the age of 68. If you are ever there…..you have to go.

E Hayes & Son, home to the Fastest Indian Runner, and a spanner.

Alpine Horse Safari

One of the ways to stop the first mate from whinging about being on a boat for 3 years is to allow her the chance to get on a horse. We discovered a company that took you on treks over the mountains high above the Canterbury Plains. We had opted for the 3-day trek.

First night was spent being taught how to pack and roll our swag rolls. Then we were introduce to our horses for the next 3 days. The First Mate’s horse was Nico and the Captain’s Ginga. We had the lovely Laurie (face like a pair of old saddle bags), Harriet and Tony her dad looking after us. Sadly, poor Tony was thrown at the start of the day and broke his ribs and had to retire from the trip. We really missed him. The pose included seven riding horses and five pack horse and two spare. The pack horses just did their own thing, but at the start of the first day (their first outing in months) their own agenda was to go home and like ‘City Slickers’ we were taught very quickly how to round up the rascals. We slept each evening in sheep station woolsheds… which was different. Early starts were essential as it took two hours each morning to ready the horses and that involved catching, grooming and tacking. The trip was awesome, the views spectacular, the weather stunning. The First Mate is still wondering if she can smuggle Nico home on the boat.

Lucy on Nico, a sheering shed for bed, and my trusty Giger

Close Encounters

Bucko and Shannon: Met them in Fiji. They foolishly asked us to look them up if we were in the area! We did! Amazing hospitality, lots of boat chat and generally a really lovely couple who we are very fortunate to have met.

Pete & Lee: Parents of Kiwi Tom from Coll! We have met them a few times over the years but it was so lovely to see them in their stunning home in Wanaka. They put up with tent drying, stinky clothes washing and tolerated our chat for two days. Their walk-in cold storage, essential for the zombie apocalypse!

Johnny and Kirstin: Intel informed us that they were in the country and that they were over to watch the cricket, …. Sorry, I mean visit their son! A lot of banter on WhatsApp led to a fab evening at an Airbnb where I’m pretty certain too much wine was drunk. It was a fun night. – Ed’s note, never stand in a shower beside Johnny.

From top left, left to right: Lucy and Roz, The Rellies, Pete and Lee, Jenny and Greg, Johnny & Kirsten, James & Netty, Shannon & Bucko.

Roz & Mario: Roz is an old school friend (who quite frankly hasn’t changed a bit!). Slightly stalked her whereabouts and reaped the rewards of a delicious lunch and ‘catch up’ with us even allowing the men to join!

James & Netty: James, we have both known for many years. It’s been ages since we last met and it wonderful to see him again and meet Netty his lovely wife and stay in their gorgeous house with beautiful views of the Abel Tasmin Park. I now know how to make a fab fish chowder and they even provided and evening of Yacht Club racing.

The Kiwi Rellies: Obviously being a quarter NZ 1st Mate is bound to have some rellies living over here. All three in their 80’s, they dusted down their car not used for a year, and announced that they would be at the Whangarei Marina the following day. Oh, and they would also be bringing lunch! They were damned if they weren’t going to see us and get a tour of the boat. They were utter troopers and we had a fantastic afternoon.

And Then: Pippa, an Aberdonian who is cycling solo round the world. www.postcardsfrompippa.com She was so lovely, tolerating my mothering hugs and general warnings about speaking to strange men! Then Jenny and Greg, who we met in a hut in the mountains. Turned out that they had lived round the corner from us in Edinburgh and she had spent most of her childhood holidays on Coll.

Glenorchy

Bonnie Jean Hut. Made of rust.

Glenorchy is a glorious small village at the head of Lake Wakatipu. There you go, say it slowly: W a k a t i p u. The Maori names are a delight but you have to concentrate hard to get your tongue round some of the more awkward ones while some are just plain impossible. One such we could not master we renamed “Lake Kanaepronounceet”. Glenorchy; settled by home sick west coast of Scotlanders who found comfort naming their streets after bygone favorites; Clyde St, Argyl St, Benmore Pl, Mull St and of course Coll Street. The lakes are grander, the mountains taller and the vistas wider but there is nevertheless something of Scotland here and you can see why the early settlers would be much at home. One of the delights of New Zealand are their huts, mostly controlled by DOC and often requiring an advanced booking but the more remote inaccessible ones are available on a roll of the dice. The mountains above Glenorchy are peppered by Scheelite Mines and some of the original high huts the minors occupied are still in use today by walkers, or I should say trampers. One such hut was Heather Jock Hut. What a name. A stiff climb to 950m equipped with food, cooker, sleeping bag and roll mat and excited at the prospect of night in the high wilderness. I arrived first and had the choice of the three bunks choosing one that gave an awkward view through a tiny cob web encrusted window. I spent the afternoon reading my book, basking in the warm glow of the sun, waiting for other overnighters, but none arrived, and I had the marvelous Heather Jock Hut all to myself.

Heather Jock Hut

Mount Cooke

Aoraki / Mount Cook is the highest mountain in New Zealand at 3724m below which Mount Cook village lies in its shadow. The historic Hermitage Hotel has served as base for many an aspirant including some eighty who met tragedy and death attempting this most challenging of peaks. We arrived here for three days, staying at the DOC Glentanner center at the head of Lake Pukaki determined to get a feel for the place. Lucy, generous as ever, gave me a night to explore and I chose the Sefton Bivouac as my objective. This is the oldest climbing hut in New Zealand, built in 1917 at 1650m above sea level. With just three bed spaces available, I resolved to arrive by lunchtime to stake my floor claim and set off suitably early up the Hooker Valley. The ascent was relentlessly steep and route finding challenging with only occasional cairns for reassurance. The guidebook warns of “severe consequences” (aka death) of a fall and my god, it’s really not for the faint hearted. I’ve never been so exposed without a rope and being by myself added to the “what if” drama.

The Sefton Bivouac

The reward was phenomenal with the hut perched on the edge of a soaring cliff with breathtaking views and just stones through from the snout of a Te Waewae Glacier. It was not long before others started to arrive and I was to share the hut with two local and lively Kiwi girls, who quickly arranged their sleeping bags to top my tail, preventing any possibility of an accidental slumber induced spooning mishap. Very sensible. In all there was a small community with over nineteen wilder-walkers, the others in a collection of tents dotted over the craggy shoulder. Sheer bliss, the hut to rule them all.

Looking down to Sefton with Hooker Valley below

Doubtful Sound

Lucy; aquatic action go go go

Travelers on the Grand Tour will inevitably be drawn to Milford Sound in the south west corner of the south island. Forming part of Fiordland National Park, its indisputably spectacular and given its relative ease of access, attracts 5000 visitors a day. That’s a lot of boats going backwards and forwards. We decided instead to visit the less well know and far quieter Doubtful Sound, so named when Captain Cook in 1770 nosed HMS Endeavour into have a look, he was doubtful he could sail back out so executed a sharp about turn. Far quieter because it is difficult to get to. We started at six in the morning in a bus from Lake Te Anau arriving 20 minutes later at Manapouri where we transferred onto a boat which, for the next 45 minutes whizzed us over Lake Manapouri. We arrived at the Manapouri Hydro Station to get off the boat and onto bus number two which drove down a Kyber Pass stylee track to Doubtfull Sound far below. Then into kayaks and off we went paddling up the fiord. We encountered one tourist boat all day and other that that, our gaggle of six kayaks had the fiord to ourselves. That’s the reward, a bit more effort, always take the path less traveled by. No words however assembled on a page could do justice to the sheer majesty of the place, but without doing justice I will mention the waterfalls fueled by seven meters of rainfall a year, the towering cliffs periodically stripped of their vegetation in forest avalanches and the abundance of wildlife on the water, under the water and soaring high above the water. We had four hours in our kayaks and enjoyed a lunch time swim before reversing our journey in, to retreat back out. What a day.

Taking shower under one of the many water falls

Lord of the Rings Country

Bag End, Bagshot Row, Hobbiton, The Shire, Middle Earth (dunnae no the post code)

I read The Hobbit and Lord of The Rings as a young teenager and on hearing that Peter Jackson was re creating the trilogy for the big silver screen, to release in 2001, I immediately re read them in preparation. Harvey aged eight, was a good age for the Tolkien introduction but wondered what eldritch child we had spawned when he announced he had learnt Elfish or as he would correct me, Quenya. There is hardly a corner of the South Island that was not used for the filming. The locations are ubiquitous, so much so Lucy found a cunning app that would geo locate you to the nearest scene with chapter and verse of what happened there and then. Diving in, we took a jet boat ride down the Waiau River, used for scenes along the River Anduin, when the Fellowship canoed from Lothlorien towards Argonath. The site was also used in the opening shots of The Fellowship of the Ring, while the soaring peaks surrounding the river were used for the rugged South of Rivendell. I can feel heads nodding and eyes drooping, so lets jump forward, or backward to the Hobbit. Hobbiton is in the North Island and gives nerds and fanatics a memorable day in the Shire. The enterprising land owning farmer did a deal with Peter Jackson to build a permanent location that would become a busy and lucrative tourist destination. They spent two years building it for twelve days of filming and we rather enjoyed it, especially the free tankard of ale in the Green Dragon Inn at the end.

Resting in the Green Dragon

AJ Hackett

Kawarau Bridge, site of the first commercial jump...ever.

Many dim people credit AJ Hackett as the inventor of the bungee jump but they are as wrong as the Kiwis who insist on calling flip flops “thongs”. We all know what a thong is and its not worn on your foot. Bungee jumping was inspired by the death-wishers of Vanuatu who jump from rickety towers 30m up with a vine attached to each ankle. The Oxford Dangerous Sports club decided to reduce the eye-popping G forces by using rubber cord rather than the non-stretchy vines of Vanuatu. The first leap into the unknown was appropriately on April Fools day in 1979. Mr Hackett took note and can be credited with commercializing Bungee Jumping in New Zealand in 1988. Why am I telling you all this? Because just four years later in 1992 Lucy and I set up the Scottish branch of the UK Bungee Club and over the following three years tried unsuccessfully to kill, I mean thrill, some 10,000 brave souls, flinging them of cranes over tarmac, grass and ponds but never spectacular canyons. It was by complete accident and of no design that we drove past AJ Hackett’s Kawarau Bridge where the very first commercial jump took place and we just had to pull in for a butchers. This is where it all started and I can credit what happened here with the “seat of your pants” three years of our lives. And no, I did not do a jump. I’ve done over a hundred and consider myself lucky to be alive, so let’s not push it. But it is perfectly safe, honest…

Otago Tree

Lucy and I are now back on Broadsword making our way north up to Bay of Islands where we will patiently wait for our weather window in the first week of May to return northward to the Tropics. We had a fantastic road trip and the memories and experiences are indelible, life long lasting. But its not all been fun and games and much work has been done to prepare Broadsword for the onward voyage. For the nerds, I’ve listed some of the chores below. For the sensible, thank you for sticking with us through this tiresome tome.

Follow us on No Foreign Land

Broadsword Works

Antifoul: primer, two coats

Prop: full service, new bushes, prop speed coated

Bow thrusters: removed, cleaned, antifouled

Anodes replaced

Centre Board dropped and bushes replaced

Coach roof rail: was bent, re welded and re fitted

Gel Coat: various repairs

Bow sprit U Bolt fitted

Lazy bag, Tender Chaps: repaired

Bimini: new clear panels

Spray hood: zipped front clear panel adaption

Deck organisers: replace broken plastic spindles with alloy

Volvo Penta Engine: barnacle busting flush, oil leak found and fixed

Fischer Panda: new one installed

Transducer: fault found and repaired

Water tanks: disinfected, cleaned out

Water maker: re commissioned after hibernation

Water pump: replaced broken with new

Fresh water filter: new filter

Gas: new cylinder

TV: new one installed (old one knackered)

HDMI cable: TV to plotter, giving plotter on TV underway

Deck compass: new one fitted

Navionics Chart areas for onward passage installed

Antenna for Garmin / Fusion replaced

Sky Link Certus 100 sat comms installed to replace Iridium sat phone

Life Raft serviced and re certified for another three years

Life Jackets serviced

OCC burgee and Rampant Lion flag replaced

Broadsword on sea trials in brisk conditions