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!

Wolf River Fieldwork Mar 2-5

Frontispiece: Young fossil (Taloclamys gemmulata) found in marine silts 580m above sea level, uplifted by the Alpine Fault.

With a narrow but promising weather window forecast over Fiordland, I quickly geared up at the last minute for what regrettably may have been my last bit of PhD fieldwork. This would be the first PhD fieldwork where I did not directly study the Alpine Fault. Rather the goal of this work was to re-find a deposit of young fossiliferous marine silts and sands exposed in large slips at the head of the Wolf River (580m/2000ft elevation) and drainages southward. We would collect any and all shells we found so that a paleontologist collaborator could determine the diversity, environment and water depth the shells were deposited in. I would then give a few of the broken fragments to another collaborator who would be able to date the shells so that I could determine an Alpine Fault-related uplift rate here. For the fieldwork I was fortunate to be joined by one of New Zealand's great field geologists who originally found the shell deposit almost 15 years ago.

An early start from Dunedin had us flying out out of Milford just after noon under overcast skies. We had a great but short flight up the Harrison and over into the John O'Groats to spiral into grassy "flats" near the head of the Wolf River, a large creek between the John O'Groats and Kaipo. In seconds we were out of the chopper and watching it fly out of sight and out of sound. A thorough search for a campsite found sparsely any flat ground but we settled on a sloping spot just inside the bush and set about making it comfortable.

We then walked up the creek towards the towering slip, noticing the occasional chunk of weathered marine silt in the creek. We followed deer tracks to the head of the slip where we found the marine deposit sitting on basement rock. The rock was strongly weathered with all the calcareous fossils gone from the rocks leaving only the imprints, which would be useless to me and of only minor interest to the paleontologists. Things were not looking promising and I began to think we had poorly gambled a helicopter flight to come here. I continued searching the area for fresher material and marking a stratigraphic section through the deposit. A couple hours later I heard a triumphant hoot- Mo had found shell material! I joined him to attack the more promising bluish gray silt outcrop where he found the shell. After digging in about 20cm we began finding fossils with regularity- apparently the calcareous shells had only been leached near the surface and were well-preserved (though delicate) within. A couple hours of careful work revealed over 15 species of molluscs including ones that would be useful for dating! Many were so well preserved they still had their iridescent  mother-of-pearl. Uncovering the fossils was great fun compared to my usual activities of structural measurements and oriented samples and reminded me of my early rock collecting days. Nearing the end of the day, we carefully wrapped up our finds and walked back to camp. We cooked dinner over an open fire in the creekbed as trails of smoke spun into the sky. I was much relieved by the day's eventual success.

The next morning we happily awoke to a cloudless sky and got an early start climbing up the slip past the previous day's outcrops and then headfirst into the bush to gain a well-deer tracked moraine ridge that we could travel to reach the edge of the Wolf River Tablelands, an extensive flat glacial surface beneath which lie the marine silts. We traveled about 1.5km to reach the rim of the next drainage to the west of the Wolf to take in the sobering view- a huge slip complex 700m across lined by 20-40m cliffs of moraine with waterfalls pouring over in places. Below we could see the marine silts we hoped to reach but it was not obvious how we were going to get down the cliffs to reach them. We continued for quite a distance along the rim before eventually finding a sketchy deer trail down through the cliffs to eventually reach the creek and walk up the next branch. Here we found a near perfect section through the entire silt unit with a 35m cliff towering overhead. I set about describing and measuring the base of the section. This time it was I that found the fossil-rich zone in the middle of the steep slope with well-preserved scallops in abundance on the surface. Here the exposure was so good that we could spend most of the time collecting the fossils off of the surface instead of digging through the silt looking for them. Over several hours we found a diverse fauna including scallops, clams, bivavles, gastropods, urchin, barnacles, chiton, mussel and others.

        Here be fossils.

As the day started to get on we headed back. To avoid the long circuitous route back up the cliffs we opted to try our chances at finding a more direct route. This went well for a while but the most promising place still had a 15m high bush clad cliff we would need to scale, including vertical roof-clinging for the last 5m. It looked do-able with care, though definitely with bad consequences if one of us fell. Using quite a bit of strength I pulled myself up the tree roots and shrub stems while wedging myself between a tree and the cliff. Eventually I reached the top and Mo followed, both of us feeling more than a bit triumphant. If only health and safety police could have seen us! We made great time heading back so collected a few more fossils at the Wolf outcrop before yet another great campfire evening.

The following morning we packed up camp and walked down the Wolf River to reach the coast. The day was beautiful and the going down the Wolf remarkably good thanks to low waters, good deer trails and grassy terraces lining the river. At the last turn in the river we abruptly received a beautiful view of Madagascar Beach guarded by a gateway of rock with a nice swimming pool beyond. We reached the beach without incident 2.5 hours after setting out. The sandflies were mostly civil and the warm sun exceedingly welcome on this beautiful and remote beach. We found a campsite and spent the rest of the day walking the bouldery coastline, examining old wave cut terraces that had been uplifted and abandoned. Nothing useful to date but it was worth a try. We had a great little driftwood-fed fire on the beach as the sun set and clouds rolled in from the horizon.

        Exiting the Wolf River

        Above and below: Several views of the remote Madagascar Beach

We had a lazy last day with a prolonged breakfast, then moved on to boredom fighting activities like moving rocks to make a good helipad and untying knotted crayfish pot lines. When those were succeeded we resorted to walking around in circles to avoid a cloud of sandflies landing on us. Eventually the chopper landed and we were whisked away on another beautiful flight back to Milford Sound with many kilograms of precious fossils carefully packed away.

Goodbye sandflies!

It was exceedingly pleasant fieldwork without complaints. Easy, beautiful, productive. Many thanks to Mo, my very keen, capable and accomplished field assistant for the trip.

 

Stormy Pot Expedition Feb 11-17

Frontispiece: The amusing silhouette and namesake of the Big Friendly Giant entrance (best appreciated after 6+ days in the cave). All in-cave photos by Neil Silverwood.

Stormy Pot is a new system found on Mt Arthur in early 2011 by some of the keener cavers in New Zealand. Over several trips they pushed the cave to great lengths and depths. When they plotted up their surveys at the end of the trip they found the cave to be within hundreds of meters of connecting to New Zealand's deepest through-trip, Nettlebed Cave. Such a connection would be the first >1km deep throughtrip in New Zealand (taking 3 days to traverse) and would represent one of the great milestones in New Zealand caving. It would be the Mt Cook of New Zealand caving. So with that potential how could I resist not being excited for this trip for months!?

I guess the caveats would be that it would be one of the hardest caves I have been in, very wet in places and an even 4 degrees Celsius. I would be carrying heavy packs with gear for rigging, camp and caving. I tried desperately to get in better shape before the trip as I knew the quality of the cavers I would have to be able to keep up with. It was with high hopes that I packed for the trip.

An all day marathon drive across the South Island through a gauntlet of construction zones, slow semi-trucks, and even slower camper vans led to my arrival in Nelson at 7:30pm. These are cavers after all so naturally I met up with them for planning at a local pub. Luckily we did not need to drop gear off at the chopper until the next day at 10am which gave me a chance to relax and not worry about packing until the morning.

Day 0: The weather looks cloudy and foggy and we are really hoping it lifts so the helicopter can get into Mt Arthur with our gear. The team drops off our cave gear at the helipad. We laid out the survey sketches in the hanger and formulated plans to check leads. The pilot said no worries to the weather so we all hopped into the cars and drove up the hill to the Flora Saddle carpark...where it was raining lightly. We procrastinated for a solid half hour in the shelter hoping for a miraculous improvement in the weather before walking up the hill to the Mt Arthur Hut. The weather was still miserable and most of the group was happy to hang out at the hut. All the food and many peoples sleeping bags and tents were on the helicopter so many people were in limbo over whether to stay the night at the hut or walk back down the hill. To try to do something productive with the day Bruce and I ran around the tussock getting accurate GPS coordinates of entrances so the cave survey could properly be tied together instead of just guesswork. At this point it was obvious the weather was not going to improve today and there would be no helicopter. When we got back to the hut a family of 7 (including crying baby) had arrived and the cavers unanimously declared mutiny for a warm bed or floor down the hill in Motueka.

 

Day 1: We all woke at daybreak, ate, packed and headed back up the hill. The weather was comparitively good and the helicopter was able to land without incident. We walked past the crowded hut where the family was cooking brekkie and followed the poled route across the alpine karst of Horseshoe Basin and sidled across to the Innominate Basin high on the backside of Mt Arthur. The enormous pile of gear near the Big Friendly Giant entrance could be seen from several kilometers away. Cavers frantically ran around in circles amid brightly colored gear, much of which would inevitably turn a muddy brown.

We had a meeting and broke up into teams of 3-4 and organized our caving gear, camp gear, clothes, food, ropes, etc. for a week underground. Between my sleeping bag, down jacket, camp clothes and thermrest (and my share of the food) my 2 packs were already filling up. Sadly there was no way I was going to fit a camera in my pack, but thankfully Neil took his and got many good shots. I frantically packed, somehow seeming to take a lot longer than everyone around me. I remember a touch of reluctance and intimidation as I dropped into the Big Friendly Giant entrance and the last trace of sunlight vanished overhead. What was I getting myself into I asked myself.

We went down about 400m of rope in the entrance series, often with only a few horizontal steps between. The 70m Intimidator pitch was particularly sobering. Gravity was aiding all the movement of the heavy packs but I dreaded the huge amount of work climbing back out of the cave was going to be. With every drop I added a bit more fatigue to my perception of the hellish trip back out of this cave. What joy it would be to find a connection to Nettlebed and walk downhill out of the cave. One of my packs was particularly awkward- almost as tall as me and top-heavy which made it a nightmare threading through tight spots and added much effort to the descent. Once down the entrance series things flattened out for a bit as we followed a rifty stream passage downward to an imposing obstacle, The Gates of Troy, a narrow squeeze which still remains the only way on to the rest of the cave. It was not so narrow that I had to take my vertical gear off, but was quite an obstacle to fit some of our gear through.

        The Gates of Troy and the small mountain of gear that needs to fit...

Beyond we enter the Quartz River which continues to drop steadily over downclimbs and pitches to the impressive Summer's End, an thundering 10m waterfall. Some clever rigging meant it could be descended all but dry. A short traverse just above the lip of the next dramatically thundering waterfall gives access to a steep dry canyon (You Can Call Me Doctor Delicious) with several more pitches. After a time the route starts heading uphill to camp, with another traverse and short pitches and climbs to reach the Chocolate Room Camp- a welcome sight!

I was tired but not nearly as spent as I thought I would be. Still the dread of the exhausting exit from the cave at the end of the trip weighed down on me and I truly felt the distance to the surface world. After a freeze-dried dinner I settled into bed but slept very poorly. I had not quite figured out the right technique for maintaining my warmth with feeling claustrophobic. My body was doing strange things. At one point I woke up hyperventilating. All up I think I got only about 3 hours of sleep that night, which is a really poor way to start a weeklong caving trip. I remembered it was almost the last place I wanted to be.

         Summer's End

Day 2: Needless to say my enthusiasm was low when morning was declared and everyone got up for a porridge breakfast and began packing for the day. I also was feeling rather unwell. I sucked it up though, put on my freezing wetsuit, and headed out for the day. The most exciting bit of the commute was a somewhat sketchy rift we needed to downclimb about 12m- fun but also a bit scary. I was happy when we later put in a rope to eliminate that possibility of error. Thankfully I warmed up by the time I reached the River of Clowns, a fantastic bedrock river passage with several sporty swims and beautiful sculpted passages. The river goes for almost a kilometer to an enormous collapse chamber perhaps a hundred meters called Black Dwarf. We stopped for a snack on the saddle of the enormous rockpile and enjoyed the view of inky darkness. At this point Nettlebed should be only a hundred meters or so to the south so we scoured the south wall for leads. We found a good one with a strong draft and I began on the surveying team while the exploration team powered on ahead. We surveyed past several obstacles, all the while chilled by the cool draft that told us this passage was headed to a lot more cave.

After lunch and a hot cup of tea, I took over the exploration team, hoping to warm up a bit, as the surveyors followed. We worked our way downward through stunningly coral-lined passage to a short drop into a room with several passages branching off. Eventually we found the one with the draft again. I carefully worked my way through the delicately white passage but I still felt like I was going to conservation officer hell. We came to a former sump with strange bubbly calcite formations, then followed a very strong draft down a narrowing passage to a rather abrupt and fresh looking rockfall. Beyond we could see a chamber and surely I thought we were meters away from Nettlebed! I could feel it! We moved quite a few rocks, careful to avoid touching the particularly precarious looking boulder that would squish us flat and certainly "hole-in-one" the way on. Eventually I managed to do a spiral squeeze through the rockfall and two of us explored the small chamber and the several leads branching off. The most obvious lead was a 10m pitch down into a canyon, and I was pretty convinced it would take us to Nettlebed. It was getting late so we called it a day and headed back to camp. The route back is supremely enjoyable after a long day of caving. I got some pretty horrible and almost debilitating abrasions from wearing a wetsuit all day but luckily managed to come up with a cure the following days. I was in high spirits at the end of the day and excited to see what lurked beyond tomorrow. I slept very well despite the efforts of the snorers.

        One of several swims along the fantastic River of Clowns

        Neverland, near the bottom of the cave

Day 3: We returned to our great leads of the previous day. Apparently the canyon choked in both directions with no draft and similarly the high leads did not have a draft. We scoured the walls of the chamber but could not find the draft again! The chamber is formed right on a major fault- perhaps the fault separating Stormy Pot from Nettlebed. We were so close! Since we could not find the draft anywhere else, it must filter through the rockfall in the floor. What a bummer! We turned back and surveyed a few bizarrely rollercoaster-like passages until we had enough. With our stunning lead gone, we de-rigged all the rope in this area and brought it back to Black Dwarf so other teams could use it elsewhere.

Day 4: Two of us explored and surveyed a promising canyon above the River of Clowns. Again we were following directional coral and a strong draft. Several passages branched off and we surveyed along the most obvious passage, eventually tying into a known station. It was a surprisingly complex area, very much controlled by the abundant faults. We left several promising leads with good draft. Elsewhere another team had completed an impressive climb into a large passage which unfortunately ended in rockfall after 150m. The cave was beginning to show its stubborn side!

Day 5: Most people had long days the previous day and so had chose to have a short day not too far from camp. I decided to have a camp day. I took an extended nap, which was great because I caught up on sleep for the first time in the cave. To keep warm I helped on some of the camp projects- improving the kitchen and improving a precarious part of the walkway. After some deliberation, I decided I would head out of the cave tomorrow with the two others headed out. Sure I could stay in 8 days like some of the others, but at the time 6 really felt about right! This day was a good mental and physical rest for the hard day's effort that tomorrow would bring.

The Chocolate Room Camp is surprisingly pleasant and a great mental refuge from the rest of the cave. To get to it you must climb a couple meters up into a sandy-floored passage about 3m wide and 20m long. A walkway extends along one wall with room for sleeping perpendicular to the opposite wall. The kitchen is at the back of the passage and features a long table for food and a great semi-circular bench for cooking. Just beyond is a small crawl leading to the rest of the cave. Thankfully this can be blocked with one small pack which cuts out the draft and warms up the camp a couple degrees which makes a huge difference. Water is about 50m away and requires either crawling or climbing and so could be more convenient. It is easy to go through a lot of water at camp between all of us. The toilet area is similarly inconvenient and requires a couple downclimbs and  ducks under low roofs to get to- an unpleasant mid-night walk when semi-conscious. Of course all trash and solid waste is carefully packed and carried out of the cave. After a couple days in the camp our breaths condensed on the ceiling and drips began to develop, including a notable one very close to my head when I slept.

 

         The kitchen at the Chocolate Room Camp

        "Lights out" at Chocolate Room Camp

Day 6: The three of us heading out woke for an early start. I decided to leave my sleeping bag in camp- the added bulk and weight was going to kill me on the way out and I hoped it was not too long before the connection was found and I could do a throughtrip. We headed up at a comfortable pace at first, helping each other with our packs, some much heavier than the ones I was carrying. Helping made a huge difference and we made steady progress. The guided pitch at Summer's End was pretty entertaining to go up. More pack passing and we were through the Gates of Troy. Shortly after would be the abundant pitches at the entrance series so to avoid a bottleneck I kept moving up the pitches at a steady pace, occasionally stopping for a few minutes to be sure I could hear the other two in the distance. The ropes were endless! By the time you got off one you could already see the next one you had to go up! Up, up, up. Sweat, sweat, sweat. The Intimidator pitch was particularly endless and my arms were rather pumped by the time I got to the top. My shoulders and waist were becoming sore from the weight of the packs tethered off of my harness. Once up the Intimidator pitch I saw a single blade of tussock grass. What an inspiring sight! Up another pitch I saw a leaf. Up another pitch the random pile of snow that found its way into the cave. Looking up I could see the faint glow of daylight which powered me on. The last sight was the one of the Big Friendly Giant, just before I emerged back into the land of the living. I promptly stripped down to underwear and laid flat on the karst pavement in the warm sun with a slight breeze blowing across my skin. What a trip! While we did not make the sought after connection to Nettlebed or Windrift, we still surveyed many kilometers of cave and accomplished much. I still have high hopes of a Stormy Pot-Nettlebed connection and the epic throughtrip which would result. I would love to go back.

 

        There is nothing like emerging to a warm summer's day!

Eventually the other two made it out and we slowly made it back to the cars. Unfortunately my car was in Nelson so it would take They gave me a ride down to the Mot highway where I unsuccessfully tried to hitch until just after dusk. It was beginning to look like I would be camping under the bridge...without a sleeping bag or tent. Fortuitously a minivan swerved to stop for me and a great conversation ensued about caving and the local scene. I got delivered right to the door of the Brewers, had a shower and collapsed in a bed. The next morning I walked to the far end of Motueka (a long way it turns out!) and almost immediately got a ride to Nelson from a friendly couple about to go to a wedding. Again I got delivered right to my car! I had a nice relaxing day in Nelson walking through the farmers market and then going over to collect my stuff at the Brewers and go for a swim and sunbath on Little Kaiteriteri beach. I stayed the night at Jane's in Nelson then drove to Akaroa where I was similiarly spoiled with good food and good conversation and a good night's sleep. A solid half day spent in lovely Akaroa before the uneventful drive to Dunedin. It is just wonderful how well things turn out in this country sometimes. Thank you good people!

Thanks to Troy, Bruce, Chris, Neil, the Kierans, Heidi, Aaron, Grant, Lindsay, Gavin, Claire, Hamish, John, Michael, Sarah, Ian, Judith, young couple from Wairarapa, Jane, Rick and Francesca.

Great Barrier Island Feb 3-6

Several months ago I agreed to help out at the UC education abroad orientation in Auckland I was a part of many years back now when I first came to NZ. I gave the students my impressions of what it was like moving to New Zealand and give tips on how to settle in, and in particular talked with the students headed to Otago. Despite feeling my age at times, in general it was a positive experience and I can remember brimming with that same new country enthusiasm I saw in them. One of the afternoons in Auckland I got a tour of some of Auckland's lava caves from the expert himself. It was a very amusing afternoon of knocking on people's doors and asking if we could see the cave in their backyard. It also resulted in a cup of coffee with one of the keen residents.

I used the opportunity in Auckland to book a ferry to and flight from Great Barrier Island (Aotea), the largest island in the Hauraki Gulf and a place I have always wanted to visit. It has a small population spread over several isolated settlements and a large amount of forest that, while mostly stripped of its largest kauri trees, is still nice sub-tropical lowland forest with great variety. The island has a rather extensive trail network for its size, not to mention two very nice hot springs. Despite being a holiday weekend, I found most of the trails satisfactorily quiet.

I took the ferry over late on Friday once relieved of my orienting responsibilities arriving as the sun set. I got a ride from a friendly Scottish woman and her 6 month old to the trailhead and walked through the trees and boardwalked swamps by headlamp. There was a great abundance of mosquitoes about and I would have many bites by the end of my stay on the island. After setting up and having a meal, I calmed my nerves with a candle-lit soak in one of the Kaitoke hot pools. I remember the forest had an eerie creak to it as the trees bent in the breeze. Exploring the following morning determined I happened to find the best pool the previous night, though there were a half dozen other good pools for soaking. I took off as a large group arrived and did not see anyone else on the trails through the middle of the forest that day. I took the Tramline Track through a nice nikau palm grove and spent about a half hour trying to find Peach Tree Hot Springs. After much walking in circles I determined the GPS coordinates I had were wrong, I followed vague trails and vaguer directions and found the springs with no trouble. A nice deep pool had been carved out of the altered andesite and is supposedly at least as old as 1930, but potentially dates to the late 1800s. It had a rather scummy appearance from disuse but the temperature was great and I settled in for a great soak until I could stand the mosquitoes no more.

        The best pool at Kaitoke Hot Springs

        Peach Tree Hot Spring (better than it might look!)

         Nikau grove

I then took the Peach Tree trail which steadily climbed up ridges towards the high peaks of Mt Heale and Hirakimata. As I climbed the forest gave way to manuka scrub. At intervals the trail gave great views of the rugged east coast and the seemingly random volcanic landscape (a cliff here, a couple pinnacles here, a flat topped mountain there and rugged gorges over yonder). Before long I reached the new Mt Heale Hut with its thoughtfully spectacular view of the islands and inlets around Port Fitzroy and Little Barrier in the distance. I found a suitable place for a hammock and within 10 minutes of setting it up it started sprinkling! Still I enjoyed the view from the patio as the sun set through clouds.

 

        View from Mt Heale Hut

        Little Barrier in the distance

In no particular rush, I enjoyed a long morning at the hut reading and writing before finally packing up to go. The track up and down from Hirakimata was a test piece in DOC track-building OCD with a near-continuous boardwalk with stairs for perhaps over a kilometer (apparently to protect black petrel nesting sites). The view from the top was grand and demonstrated perfectly the vastly different nature of the rugged oceanic east coast with long beaches and rocky headlands, and the relatively sheltered Hauraki Gulf side with its many intricate inlets and islands. I then took the Kaiaraara track down what must be the most impressive valley on the island. Bedrock is exposed in the stream nearly the whole way indicating it had not yet recovered from the massive human-made floods in attempts to float kauri logs conveniently down to sea. I stopped for a swim whenever convenient to cool down from the tropical humidity. The opposite side of the valley boasted impressive vertical-jointed cliffs that made for dramatic landscape that peeked through the bush. The landscape really reminded me of the Coromandel, though thankfully a touch more pristine with less roads and forestry blocks.

The Lower Kauri dam (fronticepiece) was quite an impressive engineering feat considering its remoteness. 1930 bushmen loggers built these impressive dams, which they would pile up large kauri logs behind. The dam would be tripped, releasing a terrifying flood of enormous logs and crashing water that would ream their way down to the coast where they could be put to use as ship's masts or otherwise. I had a nice quiet evening in the Kaiaraara Hut (I had it to myself!), and found the perfect place to set up the hammock and listen to the birdsong. Good swimming holes nearby too.

        View for the top of Hirakimata

         DOC track OCD

The following day I took the Forest Road track back across the island, to the Tramline track and back to the hot springs. I enjoyed a final dip up to the last minute, then hiked out, got a painless hitch to the Crossroads and walked to the Claris airport just in time. Being the only solo person on the plane I got to sit in the co-pilot's seat which definitely had the best views. 25 minutes later we landed at Auckland Airport and I am on my way to Dunedin. It made for a really nice sub-tropical getaway and I really appreciated the few days untied to my computer and thesis.