Three Weeks in deepest darkest Fiordland
Straight to the PHOTOS
Thanks are due to Mary, Pop and Val. Without those three I'd never have had the chance to meet a wallaby, Alpaca, and Shetland pony face to face or hop into the chopper that took me and six others to the start of our trip from near Cunaris Sound to Fanny Bay. I also would have missed the opportunity to hunt for lost gaiters, roll around the inside of a tent whilst sleeping because of wind, sit in a tent for 6 days or learn to play 2-500.
Get yourself a map. Find Queenstown, then Te Anau, then find the Dusky Track and the farthest point on that which is Supper Cove. Head south west and you'll find Fanny Bay. Go directly south from there and you'll follow the ridge line we walked along. Spot Lake Victor, look for a stream confluence just to the south of that and you'll find campsite no. 1.
Land, clear the helicopter and watch as it disappears for good. Beautiful sunny weather and wonderful location and the end of a big day. Pitch the tent and it's time to meet Dudley who will be sharing my bedroom for the next couple of weeks. Go to bed to escape the sand-flies or face the alternative approach which is to never stop moving.
The rest of the team (except for Craig and I) are veterans to this part of NZ. Alby has been exploring this part of the country since 1986, the rest of them got connected over the years and now have a regular trip here every summer, usually successfully. Although last year was a bit of a washout. The helicopter was called in after 4 days of very continuous rain.
The first days tramp is spent bush-bashing. We try and follow deer-leads and clamber through the dense forest looking for ways around rocky outcrops. It has been dry for a few weeks but the moss is still soaking, the lack of rain makes it easy for us to make our way up a stream after lunch. But this easy path is short-lived as we get to a bluff and have to wade across a pool to get out onto our desired route to clearer ground. We probably cover 2km over the whole day, but the weather is outstanding and it's a great opportunity for us to stretch our legs.
Our aim is to get above the bush-line where the going is relatively easy and the views incredible. For the Brits reading this imagine a cross between North Wales and the Lake District but then fill the lower valleys with beech forest and ferns.
The first week is awesome. Clear blue skies, sunburn fear, and the boots dry out every night. We get pretty lax about tent sites and don't worry too much about shelter. We make very good progress and often wonder whether the food drops are too close together. Our weather information is picked up each evening using the mountain radio service. We knew about the Nor-westerly forecast but picked our campsites on the edge of the corrie anyway. It seemed pretty sheltered at the time. Particularly as the head wall/ridge was in the direction of the prevailing wind.
The night was appalling and got worse right up until the point where I woke to feel myself rolling up the side of the tent and landing on the other side. I looked up to see Dudley desperately trying to hold the tent down.
Later that day following porridge in the most sheltered spot we could find we make our way up over the ridge and directly to the next food drop. It's a blustery journey over the top and across the hanging valley to the other side where we find a tree-filled basin and sight our first and only deer. The rain doesn't stop all day but the trees shelter us from the wind and allow a comfortable nights sleep after vital tent repairs.
The weather deteriorates and for the next six days we stay in the shelter of the trees hiding from tent shattering wind and rain whilst waiting for a better forecast for the next exposed and allegedly spectacular ridge. The elements aren't going to play and so eventually after a couple of aborted attempts, the learning of two card games, and a finished book which would have normally taken a few weeks. We venture out onto the ridge in low cloud, snow and discover what hand-held GPS is really all about...
The weather never really clears for the rest of the trip although the last few days are an improvement with one last little adventure.
Our penultimate day sees us 3km from Fanny bay. Up over a ridge into the forest and down a steep slope. Hopefully missing bluffs and finding the remains of an old marked track. The day starts well and we make good progress. The forest is totally disorientating but somehow we stumble across these old ragged markers. Relaxed and pleased with our discovery we then amble along only to lose the markers (not that there were many) and end up in a very steep place with no obvious way down. Out with the ropes and lower for two pitches after we have tried all other options, and 8 hours later we make it down to the last challenge.
The intention was to cross the river at the lake outflow but upon arrival we find what would prove to be an interesting grade 3 white water section with no easy or safe crossing point. We are forced to camp on the wrong side, just 1km from a celebration geared food drop. The rains of the previous week have pushed the river level up and it's unlikely that they'll drop in the few days that we have left.
We decide to call the chopper in a day early as we can't see how we will cross the river safely, which proves to be a mission in itself with a basket lowered into a tight spot in the trees with bad windy weather forecast and building. All quite exciting and proving to be well timed as the weather turns bad the evening that we tuck into pizza in Queenstown.
What an adventure!