Smails-Sandfly Coast Oct 24

I have always been a firm believer in the importance of putting a bit of fear in one's life. Fear can give you much needed perspective and remind you that although we are fragile creatures, we are also resilient and possess an impressive desire to survive. It can be very revealing to put yourself in uncertain and challenging circumstances (as long as you leave yourself a few escape possibilities). To a large extent, fear seems to go hand-in-hand with exploring the unknown.

So on that note I came up with my latest adventure within Dunedin city limits: a ~7km coastal traverse from Smails Beach to Sandfly Bay.

From aerial photos and the few bits and pieces I have seen, I knew it would almost certainly be rougher than the other coastline traverses I have done around Dunedin (this proved true). That said, it is really hard to know what you are in for as the coastline can be deceiving. From best we could tell the hardest part seemed to be near Smails Beach, so we made the [later confirmed to be wise] decision to start at Smails Beach and head east. This also put the swell slightly to our advantage and gave us a better chance of hitching a ride back to our car if we made it to Sandfly Bay.

Very quickly after leaving Smails Beach we found ourselves staring at a cove with blank overhanging walls with a small sea cave at the back. The swell was about as rough as we could want it. The only real choice was to swim about 60m to a large prominent island where we could hopefully time a wave to help ease us up onto it. From here we would at least be able to see the next portion of coast. So after a fair bit of procrastinating, I jumped in and swam for the island. Despite my grippy canyoning shoes turning into brick-like clogs when I have to swim, all went well and I signaled for Callum to follow. From the top of this island (which incidentally is the best cliff jump I have seen around Dunedin), we could see we would have to swim about 100m to a place where we might be able to get out. With an 8m jump in, there was not going to be much turning back, but off we went into the deep blue-green water.

Above: View from above Smails Beach looking along the coastline traversed. Furthest headland is at the far side of Sandfly Bay (conditions are calmer than when we traversed).







Getting out required careful timing of the waves. Essentially you want a wave to lift you up at which point you grab on to the highest seaweed attached to the rock, try and find a place underneath you to put a foot, and hopefully have a strong enough hold on the slippery seaweed to pull yourself out of the water. In the best scenario this works exceedingly well. Failed attempts or set waves usually resulted in a bit of thrashing. Callum had a particularly noteworthly attempt where the wave threw him up onto the shore platform, spun him around 180°, and then slide him head first back into the ocean. Because of the abundant seaweed, he came out of it remarkably unscathed, except for a bone-deep gash in his thumb which bleed profusely. "Shark bait" we both thought as we looked ahead at several more long swims we would have to do.







We continued on, getting exhausted by the large amount of swimming with shoes and fighting interfering waves. Very happily we eventually reached a boulder-laden coastline free of swimming and climbing obstacles as far as we could see. It had just taken us 2 hours to go about 1km, 500m of which was swimming. We continued on largely without incident, trying our best not to disturb seals or penguins. We reached Boulder Beach and continued on. At this point the sun finally emerged from the Dunedin clag and soon we were roasting in our wetsuits. We plopped in every tide pool we encountered to cool off.


Looking back at Boulder Beach and the coastline we came from


Cooling off

Here the coastline finally became more varied as we past several small and beautiful little beaches, one with a waterfall dropping right onto it. We past a large colony of seals at a choice spot on one of these beaches. Between the beaches we found many rocky headlands with some fun bouldering, occasionally with waves dramatically blowing up and all around us. Then from the main headland before Sandfly Bay to the beach itself, things got interesting again. We were unsure whether we would be able to make it, but after coming so far, we were determined to try. This proved to be the most challenging rock climbing traverse of the trip and was good fun. The waves here were very dramatic and there were several places where we had to carefully time them or almost certainly get blown off the rock. With only a couple hundred meters to go I decided to jump in and ride the waves in to the beach. I quickly realized this was an unfortunate decision as I was in a strong rip tide sucking me out to sea despite the incoming waves. I rode the crest of a wave up high onto a rock. From here I was able to get back on track and traverse the cliff base to the beach, albeit with a 50m penalty. We were fortunate to receive a hitch from the carpark to the top of the hill. We ended up walking all the way back to my car at Smails Beach, but both agreed the temperature was absolutely perfect for it. It was a great adventure I will probably never do again! Thanks to Callum.


This is when seconds matter


The home stretch

Luxmore Oct 15-16

Looking up from Te Anau we could see a fair amount of snow above bushline. I was a bit disorganized for this one- the possibility of snow did not even cross my mind. The latest weather forecast was even worse than anticipated. Deliberating, we decided we had come this far and might as well go for it. At least Saturday should be nice and we could retreat early if we have to.

After an hour skirting Lake Te Anau, the track steadily climbed as darkness set on. We had a hasty dinner overlooking the lights of Te Anau far below before carrying on. Eventually we gained bushline where we were presented with a calm night and a clear ceiling of stars. The remaining 2km ridge walk to the hut made the tramp worth it as the small moon cast just enough light to walk by while still allowing much of the night sky to be seen. I even saw a few shooting stars. I could also see that a good portion of the karst field was still covered in snow. The wind settled in overnight, whistling off the corners of the hut.

After a leisurely brekkie, we strolled down the boardwalk and within 5 minutes were at Luxmore Cave. Rather easily we found the entrance to Big Cave and once the entrance was GPS-ed, we suited up, clambered down the patch of snow and went in. Almost immediately a low squeeze forces you to hover centimeters above the snowmelt streamway. Once past, the going is comparatively easy as we stooped and climbed our way down the streamway past some rather nice formations.





We easily found some of the caves nearby, and shimmied down the narrow rift of White Exit. Past several squeezes and up-and-over climbs to bypass formation chokes, the main streamway seemed to become too small to follow so we had a look at 2 nicely decorated side passages, hoping to find the supposed link to Luxmore Cave so we did not have to go back through the horrible squeezes and up the narrow climbs with gravity against us. Once we had thoroughly exhausted the side passage options, I had one last look downstream. This time I noticed a gap in the ceiling through which we could climb. Past this the passage became profusely decorated (although somewhat muddied by the careless). A spacious passage then brought us to a junction with a much larger stream, which we knew was the Luxmore stream. I had a quick run down the several hundred meters of pleasant passage before running back up and following the main stream out to the Luxmore entrance. We then explored the rest of the karst field, not having a great deal of luck positively identifying caves as most were either covered in melting knee-deep snow or nearly so, such that they were unsafe to enter. I GPS-ed a few more entrances to be identified at a later time. I will have to do a longer trip to the area on a sunny day when I am more willing to get wet.



We packed up and headed back down the mountain (staying longer would have meant less enjoyable weather). Strong winds propelled us across the ridge. The limestone bluffs the trail traverses were a great sight in daylight. Loud waves were lapping the shore of the lake. I had minor blister damage from hiking up and back in my Crocs. A feast of pizza was had in town. A marathon drive found us back in Dunedin by 1AM.

Tongariro Oct 2-3

Or: 225° of Mt Ngauruhoe

We left Wellington early; somewhere around the mythical time of 4AM, and drove north. I spent much of the drive comfortably unconscious, but relapsed into vague patches of consciousness in which I noticed the unpromising look of thick cloudy weather, contrary to forecast. At a later point I rubbed my eyes to stare at the voluminous Mt Ruapehu and the perfect cone of Mt Ngauruhoe (active volcanoes of the North Island Volcanic Plateau), which were fringed by bright blue skies. This is the weather that was forecast, so it was all go.

We immediately realized there was considerably less snow than we were anticipating, making for easier conditions. We set off from the Mangatepopo Valley, start of the world-famous Tongariro Crossing, which we would follow for several hours. Between our leisurely pace and stopping for photos, we crossed paths with a large group of tourists several times. The trail now avoids the Devil's Staircase, making for an easier climb to South Crater. En route we had great views of the 1954 lava flow we walked past, a great reminder of the activity of the area. At South Crater we had a snack while we contemplated what to do with the great conditions and debated how ambitiously we were going to spend our day. We opted to follow the track to the steaming Red Crater, then following the pole-marked ridge to Mt Tongariro, from which we enjoyed panoramic views of the snow-covered volcanic landscape.



From here we cross-countried over to the infrequently-visited North Crater, which was a tidy 80m depression in a kilometer-wide plateau. A careful descent of the plateau, then yet another climb to Rotopaunga, where we attempted to peer into some of the active features to the north, including the Colosseum-like Sulfur Lagoon crater. We followed the ridge around the frozen Blue Lake and crossed the Central Crater, which had lovely light leaking through the edges of the clouds and crater slopes. There is a particular photo I visualized on my first visit to Tongariro. Unfortunately, for this photo to be taken a multitude of stars must be aligned and after three visits, the grand view eludes me still.

North Crater






We continued past the frozen Emerald Lakes and down into the dramatic rock-piled volcanic landscape of the Oturere Valley. We reached the delightedly-warm Oturere Hut just as dark came on. Morning's golden glow gave much magic to the rocky landscape. Once the glow faded and comfortable walking temperatures were reached, we set off across the sparsely-vegetated, wind-swept hills in the shadow of rain created by the high peaks.

Oturere Valley


Mt Ruapehu






The temperature was pleasantly hot thanks to the unencumbered sun above and the black rocks radiating underfoot. We took some time exploring the Waihohonu Valley, locating springs and crossing brisk streams surging in snowmelt from the warmth of the day. We continued across the desert landscape to the historic Waihohonu Hut, before continuing on to the Desert Road where we were promptly picked up by our carpool and drove back to Wellington. Thanks to Lara and Lisa for the warm hospitality.





Left to Right: Rotopaunga, Blue Lake (frozen), Central Crater, South Crater, Ngauruhoe, Mt Tongariro