Sara and I loaded up the car, strapped the kayaks on the roof, and drove to Manapouri for our first adventure of her visit. Manapouri is one of the most interesting of the southern lakes for its abundant islands, peninsulas, cliffs and beaches. Just a couple hours paddle gets you out of the realm of the boaties and into the Fiordland wilderness; I have long wanted to do an overnight kayak trip on Manapouri. Although I had previously experimented with strapping large drybags on the cheesy sit-on-top kayaks, this would be the first overnight trip I would take with these kayaks. We carefully packed the limited space in our drybags with the key essentials. It did not take the sandflies long to find us so we loaded up the kayaks as fast as possible and pushed out into the head of the Waiau River at about 2pm and paddled upstream to Lake Manapouri.
We aimed straight for the large cliffs at the mouth of Surprise Bay and paddled straight across the wide bay of the lake, well over a kilometer from the nearest shore. Despite pleasant sun there was considerable wind swell on the water which made for slow progress. The kayaks were not designed for these conditions, and for a while Sara had difficulty keeping to a straight line. Because of this and because of the lack of close moving references, this part of the kayak seemed to take ages. Thankfully the chop was slightly reduced close to the cliffs so we worked our way north along their base. The cliffs plunged vertically into the blue-black darkness of the lake. My fingers were crossed as we approached Stony Point- to my relief the water was calmer beyond. We paddled a bit further and had a snack on a narrow strip of beach connecting a rocky island to the shore (a tombolo). Here there was just enough breeze to keep the sandflies down and bright sun to warm our skin and deceptively color the water enticing tropical hues. Distant boats ferrying tourists to Doubtful Sound trailed long wakes that would slowly make their way across the water. The lag between hearing the boat and seeing the small tidal wave arrive was akin to lightning and thunder.
We were making good time but still had quite a distance to go so we continued on a more direct route past Belle Vue Island to the next peninsula. We paddled in the calm lee of the northwest facing coast of the peninsula. Ahead we could see the point and a nasty wind swell spilling out of Hope Arm. We gathered our senses and paddled into the heart of it. Wind screamed violently past our ears as waves hit the bow and splashed spray in my face. There was no break from paddling as any deviation from hitting the swell head on could potentially be enough to flip us. Unfortunately the faster I paddled the bouncier the ride and the worse the spray. I paddled without stop but constantly peered over my shoulder to check Sara's progress. She was always smiling and at one point yelled "Don't worry, I'm having fun!" over the noise of the wind and waves.
We needed to get out of this as soon as possible so I aimed for a small beach sheltered from the wind by a slight point. I got out of the kayak and peered beyond the point- my planned destination would be a long way to go in these conditions and may be very exposed to the wind. I went back to examine the small beachlet. It seemed to be free of the gusts but also remarkably free of sandflies so I signaled to Sara to come in. It felt good to get out of the boat and the wind and I greatly enjoyed the sun on my skin as we unpacked the drybags and preceded to set up camp. Before long we had a tent, a hammock, a fire and a warm meal. We watched the sun set over the Hunter Mountains and wondered what tomorrow's weather would bring as the stars came out overhead. The sandflies and mosquitoes worked up a frenzy beneath the fly of the tent and the sound persisted through much of the night.
We aimed straight for the large cliffs at the mouth of Surprise Bay and paddled straight across the wide bay of the lake, well over a kilometer from the nearest shore. Despite pleasant sun there was considerable wind swell on the water which made for slow progress. The kayaks were not designed for these conditions, and for a while Sara had difficulty keeping to a straight line. Because of this and because of the lack of close moving references, this part of the kayak seemed to take ages. Thankfully the chop was slightly reduced close to the cliffs so we worked our way north along their base. The cliffs plunged vertically into the blue-black darkness of the lake. My fingers were crossed as we approached Stony Point- to my relief the water was calmer beyond. We paddled a bit further and had a snack on a narrow strip of beach connecting a rocky island to the shore (a tombolo). Here there was just enough breeze to keep the sandflies down and bright sun to warm our skin and deceptively color the water enticing tropical hues. Distant boats ferrying tourists to Doubtful Sound trailed long wakes that would slowly make their way across the water. The lag between hearing the boat and seeing the small tidal wave arrive was akin to lightning and thunder.
We were making good time but still had quite a distance to go so we continued on a more direct route past Belle Vue Island to the next peninsula. We paddled in the calm lee of the northwest facing coast of the peninsula. Ahead we could see the point and a nasty wind swell spilling out of Hope Arm. We gathered our senses and paddled into the heart of it. Wind screamed violently past our ears as waves hit the bow and splashed spray in my face. There was no break from paddling as any deviation from hitting the swell head on could potentially be enough to flip us. Unfortunately the faster I paddled the bouncier the ride and the worse the spray. I paddled without stop but constantly peered over my shoulder to check Sara's progress. She was always smiling and at one point yelled "Don't worry, I'm having fun!" over the noise of the wind and waves.
We needed to get out of this as soon as possible so I aimed for a small beach sheltered from the wind by a slight point. I got out of the kayak and peered beyond the point- my planned destination would be a long way to go in these conditions and may be very exposed to the wind. I went back to examine the small beachlet. It seemed to be free of the gusts but also remarkably free of sandflies so I signaled to Sara to come in. It felt good to get out of the boat and the wind and I greatly enjoyed the sun on my skin as we unpacked the drybags and preceded to set up camp. Before long we had a tent, a hammock, a fire and a warm meal. We watched the sun set over the Hunter Mountains and wondered what tomorrow's weather would bring as the stars came out overhead. The sandflies and mosquitoes worked up a frenzy beneath the fly of the tent and the sound persisted through much of the night.
We awoke to a beautiful calm day, the sort of one that made you want to linger in this beautiful place. However, the sandflies had other plans to we tried to efficiently pack up camp and paddle away as the sandflies would be better on the water. We both had clouds following us for about 500m before we finally ditched them. We paddled back across the same stretch of water which felt somewhat epic yesterday. Today we glided across the clear water, occasionally seeing eels and fish. For the return we paddled along the coast into Circle Cove with the plan of taking the short portage over to Surprise Cove, saving us several kilometers of paddling. We paddled past a few more nice cliffs as I assessed cliff jumping potential. The wind had now switched direction and began to pick up noticeably.
We found the portage without trouble and it was even easier than the topo map suggested. After lunch we ferried our kayaks and gear across to the small beach on Surprise Bay where we enjoyed one last bit of isolated Fiordland before our paddle across the open water back to the docks. The wind swell was really nasty and slightly oblique to the direction we wanted to head so we cut across towards Richters Rock and hugged the coast towards the outlet of the lake. All the paddling of the previous day and a half had been in preparation for this was the biggest swell we encountered. It was enough that I had no interest in attempting to take photos. We tried to maintain a consistent pace and made good time. It was not exhausting physically so much as mentally, as everything was moving around us and demanded our constant attention. After what again seemed like ages, we re-entered the Waiau River where things calmed down again. We promptly loaded the car and said goodbye to the sandflies. We wisely abandoned our plans for another kayak trip on Lake Hauroko (as the weather was forecast for even higher winds) and instead headed to Dunedin via Mavora Lakes. Thanks to Cathy for use of her kayak.
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