Tree Climbing 24 May

I have always been intrigued by arborists and tree climbing but I never thought it was an activity I would ever get to really try. Enter my flatmate, a PhD student in ecology who is studying the birdlife in town and their food availability. Part of his study entails leaving bug traps in the canopies of 50m high trees around town. Now several weeks later, I would be his field assistant to help him remove the traps.

It was really interesting to see the techniques arborists use as there is some overlap with caving techniques, but they have some other really clever bits of gear and techniques that are uniquely their own. Plus their harnesses are way more comfortable!

Since many tall trees do not have branches right at ground level, it is often necessary to throw or lob a weight attached to the end of some fine string over a trustworthy branch (this takes quite a bit of technique as I discovered). Once a branch is successfully slung, a rope can be tied to the string and hoisted over the branch. The arborist then climbs the rope using a harness and prusik to climb on the first branch. Attached to the harness is a lanyard of sorts that can be wrapped around a trunk or branch and affixed to the harness to provide an anchor when needed. The arborist then carefully climbs the tree where possible (dragging the rope behind him). If climbing is not possible the process of slinging branches with rope is repeated. Once at the desired height, the rope is attached to an anchor which allows the arborist to move about the canopy as if tethered to a maypole. Descent is easily done on the rope and the rope can be pulled down after.



Most of his trees were rigged with parachute cord from his previous trip, which saved considerable time as we could tie a rope to the end and just hoist it up and over the tree branch at the top of the tree like you would with a flagpole. Tie one end to an anchor and you have yourself a rope to ascend.







The traps are of two types. One consists of a half of a funnel (teet end upward) glued to the trunk of the tree. As the bugs climb up the tree they get led into the trap by the funnel shape. At the top of the funnel is a container with antifreeze that collects the bugs so they can later be sorted and counted. The other type of trap hangs from a tree branch and targets flying insects.



We climbed 2 Sequoias and a eucalyptus, all about 50m in height with his collection traps at about 30m height. The views from the top were spectacular and it was a weird feeling being tethered off of a living organism 30m off the ground. The exposed eucalyptus tree swayed in the wind and I could certainly see how an arborist could get seasick. The last Sequoia we climbed was directly above the Dunedin one-way system with cars racing below at lunch hour. It was quite a cool experience!





Thanks to Ed for some entirely amusing hours hanging out 30m off the ground in trees in the name of science.

Aramoana-Victory Beach 21 May

It was forecast for a warm sunny day and low swells along NE-facing coastlines so I persuaded my officemate to put in kayaks at the Aramoana Spit and see how far we could make it around the backside of the Otago Peninsula. The sea was perfectly calm with not a hint of a breeze (much to the disappointment of the sailboats not moving despite sails fully rigged). Marco had never kayaked before but he got the hang of it by the time we reached Tairoa Head at the tip of the Otago Peninsula, and then we made good time cruising along the coast. We past several world-class exposures of volcanic rocks with interesting erosional and intrusive relationships. Rerewahine Point was particularly interesting- an old volcanic vent with WWII bunkers perched on the edge of dramatic cliffs.


Tairoa Head Lighthouse, geology and seals


Rerewahine Point (note WWII bunkers)

We kayaked across the huge bay to land at the far southern end of Pipikaretu Beach to stretch our legs and have a bite to eat. Here we found out that since it was a sanctuary there was no access at the low tide mark (rather than the usual high tide rule), but we found out in the friendliest possible way and were soon on our way again, no harm done. We headed south to the headland off of Victory Beach where the waves were blasting the cliffs dramatically 30m into the air. We then returned the way we came with the swell now in our favor. A curious Little Blue penguin followed us for over a hundred meters, popping his head up a few meters in front of us every few minutes before diving again. It was really great to see the wildlife so prolific along this coast. On the way back I made a pretty exciting landing maneuver climbing up kelp and rocks so I did not have to urinate in my wetsuit. Once back to the harbor mouth we had a quick stop at Pilots Beach before heading back to The Spit. We kayaked over 16km of open ocean in a few hours- not a bad effort.




Pipikaretu Beach


Victory Beach and the Pyramids in the distance

The only stretches of the ~90km of coast between Blackhead and Waikouaiti I have not traversed by walking, climbing, swimming or kayaking are the short stretch at Lawyers Head and from Sandfly Bay to Victory Beach. Thanks to Marco.

Tiropahi Canyon 29 April

Despite a very late start, the allure of a warm, cloudless day and low river levels beckoned us into the narrow depths of Tiropahi Canyon. I had driven over the bridge at its start countless times, always slowing to peer downstream. Several times I had attempted to persuade people to do a trip with me, but river levels, cold weather and laziness remained persistent and effective excuses. Sara was all too keen (and trusting) so we organized gear and set off under the bridge in the early afternoon. Although I knew vaguely what to expect from the canyon, to my satisfaction it proved to be more narrow, scenic and challenging than I anticipated.

Upstream the Tiropahi lazily cuts its way through some beautiful limestone scenery. Here at the start of the canyon, the river encounters hard gneissic basement rock, which it vigorously cuts on its hundred-meter descent to the Tasman Sea. At its start we swam a few still pools and negotiated our way down some shallow but swift boulder rapids to where a great 1.5m diameter log was wedged lengthwise across a dark and intimidating narrows beyond. After a few moments' appreciation, we climbed on down, realizing there would be no turning back.




Peering into the start of the narrows

All too soon it became obvious we were not going to be seeing that glorious sun for quite a while as the narrow canyon was trending the wrong way to catch the sun at this hour. The surprisingly frigid, tannin-stained waters were a thick inky-black in the shadows. Strong reflections on the surface were nearly impenetrable, which added extra uncertainty to each step we took. Unfortunately due to the poor visibility several superb-looking cliff jumps were passed up because water depth and obstacles could not be confirmed.

Several long swims down the narrows brought us to several small waterfalls, which we carefully downclimbed or bypassed, including three short jumps. At one point we downclimbed into a 2m deep breached pothole and swam through its small exit. In a couple places logs just below the surface of the water were used as balance beams. Considering the low water levels, the river still had a good flow to it. I noticed several obstacles and hydraulics that would become very dangerous in higher water. It was a beautiful stretch of canyon, though alas too dark to get good photos of with my camera. After a very narrow two hundred meters of canyon, the canyon opens a bit wider, though still with several swims and obstacles to surmount. Ahead in the distance we could see sun entering at the turn in the canyon and before long we could hear the roar of the 25m waterfall- truly an awesome sight. Sunlight mixed with the uprising mist from the falls to create a dramatic golden atmospheric haze. After spending about 5 minutes trying to thread a chockstone, we finally succeeded and rigged a solid two-point anchor for the drop. I went down first, finding my googles quite handy as I stood in the brain-numbing spray to give Sara a fireman's belay if needed. The rope pulled fine and off we went across the long turbulent pool at the base of the falls.


Near the end of the narrows


Abseiler at top right

A half kilometer of scrambling and wading between 200m high walls brought us to some faded pink flagging tape I hoped marked a trail that would get us back up the hill to the road. We removed wetsuits and had a quick snack as the sun set over the seldom-visited, rocky West Coast beach. The track was overgrown at first, but the quality quickly improved and was easy to follow until we reached the top of the hill. Here the flagging disappeared and we spent about fifteen minutes trying to pick the track up again in the dark. In the end, we found it and shortly after the track was very easy to follow apart from a painful 30m stretch that involved caving through gorse. The return hike from the beach took us about an hour. Once back at the car, we made a quick dinner, satisfied with the day's adventure.


Thanks to Sara.

Caves & Other Distractions 18-30 April

I have been working pretty steadily for the last couple months so that I would be able to have the time to take a 1.5 week road trip with a visiting friend to Golden Bay and the top of the West Coast. While I had been to many of the places we visited before, this was a new opportunity to experience them in a new way, seeing things in more detail and staying at some really amazing places I had always wanted to. Expectations were high as I had been looking forward to this trip since late January.

After allowing Sara to have the first day as a jetlag recovery day, we got right to it the second day, donning wetsuits for a tiki tour of the northern half of the world's longest sea cave. She bravely slid through the Perfect Squeeze and we headed on to the amazing underground Totara Beach. Despite the cold we hung out until the tide would not allow, and then swam along the now surging coastline to a place where we could escape up the cliffs. We then packed and groceried to leave the next day on our road trip up to the annual caver Easter weekend meet-up at Patarau (with plenty of stops along the way).


Totara Beach

We made the long drive to Lewis Pass via a hour detour into and out of Christchurch. We ran out of daylight and changed plans to camp near Sylvia Flat hot spring. I had a nice romantic candlelit soak alone under the stars until joined by a burly local hunter. We had a leisurely morning (Sara and I, not the hunter!), with a daylight soak in the springs in spite of the frenetic sandflies. After a great lunch stop sitting on Maruia Falls, we drove on to Flora Saddle where a completely packed parking lot reminded me it was a holiday weekend and my plans to stay at Upper Gridiron might not be realized. We packed and set off anyway, Sara comfortable with the fact we would have to hike in the dark if the shelters were full. The pleasant stroll to Gridiron was as nice as I had remembered it five years ago and we made good time. The upper rock shelter was occupied so we stayed at the lower rock shelter, which despite being colder and more primitive, certainly has more charm and conjures up childhood joys of treehouses and forts. While the plush Salisbury Hut was probably overcrowded with people, we had a great night and morning looking out from our peaceful balcony on to the forest and creek below to the sounds of birds and creek. It was great to finally spend a night here; I am so happy it remains unchanged in the last five years and is still a relative secret.




Lower Gridiron Rock Shelter. Fire/kitchen at left, Sara at master bedroom/platform, fresh spring water immediately below.

Due to time we hiked back the way we came and made the long drive through Golden Bay, around the Whanganui Inlet to the paddocked coastal karst of Patarau. I had a new appreciation for the lush scenery and intricately winding road as I distractedly drove around the Inlet. When we arrived at the coast it was obvious the sunset would be enveloped in thick clouds on the horizon, so instead I talked Sara into a throughtrip of Baby Grand Cave from the large and cruisy Grand entrance to the wet and sporty Baby entrance. We found a choice camp spot on a slight slope (later determined to be a wise choice) in the Sandhills Creek paddock. That Friday night it rained (and rained) and more or less did not stop raining until we left on Monday. As the weekend went on some of the other tents became kiddy pools, but ours remained mostly dry. Saturday morning I made a few rounds around camp, catching up with cavers I had not seen in months. The weather was not particularly motivating so it was pretty much a camp day with higher hopes for better weather on Easter Sunday. The highlight was sitting in Leo's homemade hot tub under an umbrella as the rain poured down.



Sunday the weather was similarly miserable but Sara and I tried to make the best of it. We crossed the flooded Sandhills Creek near its mouth and had a wander along the rocky coastline to the south, leapfrogging between overhanging rocks during gaps in the rain. We then slacklined in the rain, which I discovered was significantly easier with an umbrella in hand. In the afternoon at high tide we ran around a few rocky headlands between waves and walked as far as the small arch. We waited out the rain under an enormous overhang nearby.






Photo by Sara


Curious kids and a sackful of eels



In the evening I managed to convince Sara to go for a late night trip to Echo Valley Palace. The road was still partially flooded and we saw a few large eels wriggling around the shallow pools. I navigated through the foggy darkness by GPS and memory, finding the cave without too much trouble. It's a very short but photogenic cave, and we had no trouble losing track of time while exploring its wonders.





On Monday we said our goodbyes (after having tea with a parrot) and headed back around the Whanganui Inlet. We sneaked in a quick climb at Payne's Ford, and some laundry and dinner in Takaka, before ultimately ending the day at the caver's hut on Takaka Hill (my home away from home).


Whanganui Inlet

The following day we got an early start and drove to Totaranui in Abel Tasman National Park. Here high seas and strong winds deterred my original plans, but we decided to attempt to bush bash to a secluded unnamed 100m long beach. The going was surprisingly good following a faint deer trail until we got to the sea cliffs. We could see the beach enticing us from below, but the route down was not obvious. We began clinging to trees and roots down the steep slope before ultimately traversing into a small dry drainage which led us to our beach. On a beautiful sunny day with calm seas this would be a pretty magical place. Again we made the best of the weather by watching the dark skies and turbulent seas from the comfort of my hammock as the tide slowly came in. Periodically wind would pick up chunks of sea foam and swirl them up into the sky in dramatic fashion. It was a really special place- I must explore Abel Tasman for more hidden gems another time.




So close yet so far...


Hammock at left







Next up we drove out to Karamea at the top of the West Coast, catching a beautiful sunset on the way (above two photos). Sara and I then had a great trip through Honeycomb Hill Cave (accessible by permit only). We went around the tourist loop and then through the gate past the Bee's Knees, Hives Canyon, D Canyon and to the G Entrance before exiting at the river via the Gradungula Passage. Here we ran into a DOC ranger counting blue ducks and cruised down the river with him to the Honeycomb Arch. As we sat and ate lunch, Sara spotted a pair of blue ducks flying through the arch. Although lighting was non-ideal for photography, we stopped to appreciate the arch for quite some time. It is certainly the most photogenic arch in New Zealand. In my opinion Honeycomb Hill is also one of the most spectacular caves in New Zealand. The Oparara and Heaphy Rivers remain one of my favorite regions of New Zealand, and I hope to return for more exploration someday.












Note small figure on ledge in distant center

I drove down the coast, all too aware that the trip was beginning to come to its end. We spent a night in well-earned luxury near Charleston before descending Tiropahi Canyon (described in a separate post). The last night we camped at a special little spot I discovered near Punakaiki but had yet to stay at- an old sea cave (now completely dry) with a stunning skylight and ample overhangs with hanging fern gardens and peacefully dripping water. It was a fitting end to an amazing trip.






The last night's camp

Thanks to Sara- I can't tell you what an amazing time I had.