Sandfly Bay-Victory Beach April 24

Sandfly Bay to Victory Beach was the last major stretch of coast from Blackhead to Karitane that I have not walked, traversed, swam or kayaked (only the short Lawyers Head remains now). It is the longest solo open ocean kayak trip I have done so far and was one of those trips where I felt like I aged a year in a day. I had a couple good adrenaline rushes from unplanned excitements, but nothing that does not make a good story since I survived. Roundtrip it was about 31km: 17km of kayaking open ocean, 6km of paddling across sheltered inlets, 2km of carrying or dragging the kayak, and about 6km of walking.

I've had my eye on this one for a while, but knew it would be an epic trip unless the swell conditions were just right. Monday's swell looked too good to pass up so I left my intentions with friends and drove out to an empty parking lot at Sandfly Bay. From the carpark the shore break at Sandfly looked a bit bigger than I hoped, but beyond the waves the ocean was as calm as it could be. I carried the kayak and gear as far as the sand dunes, then attached webbing to the kayak and dragged it down the hill. It was even more effective than I hoped, but only served to encourage me onward with my kayak trip as I had no intention of dragging the kayak back up that hill!

I watched the waves for a while, noticing the bigger sets seemed sporadic and unpredictable. There were definitely good calm periods between them though so I decided to go for it. I stayed stationary in the kayak at a position I could easily paddle through the crumbling whitewash and watch the breaking waves beyond. I thought I saw an opening and paddled fervently. Then out of nowhere a large wave rapidly began to build in front of me. I was in the worst possible place and could already tell at this early stage that the wave would crest right where I was. It was too late to turn around or paddle away from the wave. My only choice was to paddle straight at this behemoth. As predicted,  the wave began to crest right as I approached it. I was a haze of instinct and adrenaline as the front of my kayak hit the wall of the wave. I had enough speed that the kayak went halfway up the wave and the nose punched right through as the wave crashed right on top of me. To my great surprise I was still upright a few moments later, bouncing on the turbulent whitewash as it carried me back towards the shore. I paddled to break through the whitewash and could immediately see the next wave. This one was not as big as the first but I did not want to take my chances and jumped out of the kayak and held on for dear life. I made it through that wave alright and one more small one. Seeing a flat horizon I quickly jumped back in the kayak and paddled feverishly. I made it past the shore break and into the calm ocean, more than a little shook up. It took some time for the adrenaline to dissipate.

        Offshore Lovers Leap

The Lovers Leap coastline was very impressive. I kayaked in the shadows of great towering cliffs of black rock with even blacker caves at the base. The natural arch at Lovers Leap was enormous from this lowly angle. I stopped in at the great cave entrance at Sandymount. I had to beach myself on a kelp-covered rock by riding the high point of a surge before the water drained back out. I had a look around the cave and ate lunch as the seal puppies watched or lounged. I then did the reverse maneuver back into the ocean. I had dreaded the 3km open ocean paddle across the bay at Allans Beach, but to my surprise it had the calmest seas and was actually really pleasant. I have never seen the southern ocean so calm!

         So calm!

I kayaked past Wharekakahu and the jumbly crags of Matakitaki Point. I kayaked through Teanaputa, the great catherdal-roofed sea cave tunnel through Cape Saunders. A bit further offshore was a small fishing boat, the first people I saw on the trip. I rounded the next point without much incident and landed on the south end of Papanui Beach for a drink of water and a snack. A large seal was swimming back and forth in the waves in front of me, innocently I thought. When I went to get back in the water he became more threatening- swimming towards me barking and teeth blaring directly in front of my so I would have to paddle through him. I walked the kayak a hundred meters down the beach and he followed, cutting me off from the sea. He was not happy. After this dance continued a bit longer it was clear he was not going to relent and I would have to make a move. I quickly dragged the kayak another hundred meters back, got in the kayak as fast as I could and paddled furiously past the small waves.

On land it was no worries. It was a slow moving blob of fat and I had a 2m paddle. In the water however the roles reversed. I was a small, delicate boat being chased by a giant-toothed torpedo! He caught up to me with ease and darted underneath and to the side of me with teeth on full display as I paddled as fast as I could. Before long there were two of them chasing me agressively and all I could do was keep paddling. I had never really felt threatened by seals before. They chased me for well over a kilometer but I kept paddling hard to the next point to be sure they were behind me. Along the last bit of coast and around the last point, Titikoraki, went smoothly but I kept an extra watchful eye on any seals I saw and made sure to give them their space.

        So clear!

        Papanui Beach

Victory! The channel inlet at Victory Beach was surprisingly benign and I was able to enter it without having to contend with any waves. It was however a rather long way to finally reach the far side of Papanui Inlet. Fortunately I had timed it well and the rising tide was in my favor, as well as the wind.
At the far side I decided to suck it up and carry my kayak and gear the 900m over the hill to Hoopers Inlet. The few cars I passed (including a school bus) seemed amused. I then walked the kayak out into Hoopers until it was deep enough to paddle and paddled across. At the far side I found a suitable place to ditch the kayak and walked the dirt roads up the hill and then walked the track back to Sandfly Bay. Sun was setting on the bay as I climbed the last sand dune before the carpark. I then drove to pick up the kayak and called it a day. It was a wonderful adventure!

        Papanui Inlet

         Back to Sandfly Bay!

Kaumira Canyon April 15

I awoke to the relative roar of birdsong. The others enjoyed waking up to see their surroundings, which reminded me of boy scout camping trips where we would often arrive and set up camp in the dark. It was a cold morning and the sun always seemed just out of reach. We had a leisurely breakfast and packed for the day. By the time we started walking up the hill we were all dripping with sweat. We reached the top of the canyon without incident and suited up. This canyon was a lot slipperier than I remembered! Perhaps it was a function of the low flow (lower than I had seen it before). Since my last visit Kaumira has been fully bolted which made things quick and easy, but took some of the fun out of it. I still really enjoyed the long abseil through the arch, which ended the first half of the canyon.

Intermission was a sunny lunch spot on the side of a hillside. I warmed rapidly as the sun baked vapor off of my wetsuit. We only had one mutiny back down the trail due to the cold and 4 of us continued on. Everyone seemed to adopt a variation on the same dance (utilizing a shoulder strengthening exercise) to keep warm. We said goodbye to the sun at the top of the next abseil (8m jump in my case). This is probably my favorite part of the canyon- two back to back waterfalls with two spectacular plunge pools at their bases.

        Goodbye sun!

We continued on past a few more jumps and downclimbs to the last short abseil. A short walk down the stream brought us to the trail back to the car where Kat was already basking in the sun. Thankfully much of my gear dried as we had a leisurely picnic lunch before heading back to Dunedin. It sounded like everyone had a great time despite being cold! I had an enjoyable time, even after 2.5 trips down this canyon. It is a fun canyon for being not too far away. I think canyoning season is over though!

Thanks to Aaron, Kat, Nina and James.

Woolshed Creek April 14

For a while I have been telling a few friends I would take them on a intro canyoning trip. Suddenly I found myself at the end of the canyon season and decided I better organize a trip quick. Five strong, we met in a light drizzle at the Woolshed Creek carpark near Mt. Somers. I opted to take the longer, but more scenic approach to the top of the canyon which the keen trampers did not seem to mind much. A steep hillside climb gave way to moist tussock tops. A last climb and steep descent around another one of the canyons put us in view of Woolshed Creek Hut. We passed through a beautiful mixed landscape forest, scrub, and rock outcrop and crossed a scenic swingbridge. We had an enjoyable lunch in the sun on the porch of the hut before suiting up and heading down the canyon. Downstream the benign creek became enclosed by outcrop of columnar rhyolite and began to drop in a series of waterfalls abseils. Shivers began almost immediately.

        The start of the narrow Woolshed Creek slot

This canyon was unlike any I had been through in New Zealand. For over a hundred meters the canyon was a true slot, often hands could be placed on both walls simultaneously. The dark grey rhyolite had remarkably good grip with very little algae which was a nice change from the weekend before. We worked our way down several abseils and little downclimbs to the second stream that pours in on the left. Here we climbed up to enjoy a 5m slide and I enjoyed a really nice 5m jump.

        The 5m slide

Often the slot would open up and flatten out before dropping down into another tight slot section. After the abseils, a couple more swims, jumps and slides continued to entertain. The canyon opened into a gorge, but a few more jumpable deep pools remained. Near one I found a 8m high jump into a bottomless pool that almost required a running start to clear the cliff below...great jump though!

Then came the seemingly endless walk down the creek. We were all cold and hungry at this point. Although the walk was very pleasant, I think we were all satisfied to reach the car, having had a really nice trip. I managed to navigate the maze of backroads behind Timaru to Mt Nimrod where we had a great camp spot, bonfire, meal and good night's sleep.

Mather Creek April 9

Power out at the Geology building, good weather and a keen friend prompted a quick getaway to Wanaka to finish off Mather Creek, a canyon I had done a partial first descent of a couple years ago. It had since been fully descended by a couple groups who raved about the canyon so I had to check it out. The canyon is next to Muir Creek and so by association is presumably named after Stephen Mather, the American conservationist. The flow was really low in the Haast River, which meant an easy approach on the riverbank instead of the bush bashing. We reached the creek in good time and then began the 1.5hr climb through steep bush to the start of the track. The going was quite easy until the end when we had to sidle across several small gorge-lets to reach the canyon. No sooner had we reached the start of the canyon had a moderate drizzle set in. We ate lunch and geared up and shortly encountered our first of many waterfalls. The canyon is essentially in three parts with more open streamway between the three segments. The upper section had a couple nice slides then rapid fire abseils. The anchors were kind of awkwardly positioned on the side of the canyon such that it felt a bit more like vertical bush bashing at times than actual canyoning. 

The canyon has many challenging downclimbs and jumps so it was nice to be going through the canyon in low flow and not be worried about the hydraulics. The middle section had some tricky jumps to 14m, which we mostly opted out of for abseiling. This section had some of the best waterfalls and particularly beautiful pools. The bottom canyon is by far the shortest but is probably my favorite. The deepness and darkness of this canyon was enhanced as it was past 5pm by the time we reached it. A couple tricky jumps into shallow water and a spicy downclimb across the full flow of the creek lead to the canyon's grand finale, a roaring 15m waterfall into a bottomless pool guarded by an impressive 6m high rock arch. The force of the waterfall rips misty spray through the arch. Unfortunately we managed to stick the rope on this last abseil. After 20 minutes of trying to free the rope by several strategies dusk had set in and we were forced to call it a day.

The following day we found a easy place to rappel just above the last drop and I managed to easily free my rope unharmed. We wrapped up the day with a pleasant gaunt down Cross Creek. It's too bad I missed most of the canyon season this year- it was not for a lack of motivation or ambition!