stewart island

Finally, the stories and photos you've all been waiting for!

Head south from Dunedin until you run out of land, then travel for about one hour by ferry across the Foveaux Straight. Follow these instructions and eventually you should arrive at Stewart Island, the third largest island of this grand place they call New Zealand. It's not much like the North or South Islands, though. Quite remote, with only one small village - Halfmoon Bay with a permanent population of 360 people who are all involved in the fishing and tourist industries, or both. According to my tramping guidebook, "Time slows down and almost stops in this isolated corner of the country. Visitors find life here simpler, the pace unhurried, and the atmosphere in the village of Halfmoon Bay (formerly Oban) relaxed."

The Maori name for Stewart Island is Rakiura, which means the land of glowing skies. Aptly named because of the gorgeous sunsets you can see here, and the occasional appearance of the Southern Lights (kind of like the Northern Lights or aurora borealis in Canada). The island also represents the anchor of Maui's canoe (Te Puka a te Waka a Maui).

Stewart Island measures 65km from north to south and 40km from east to west, with beaches, sand dunes, bays, temperate rainforest, and about 755km of coastline. The interior is bush with steep gullies and ridges, including Mt Anglem, at 980m the highest elevation on the island. The island is famous for having a larger population of kiwis (pear-shaped flightless birds with long thin beaks) than Kiwis (New Zealanders). The kiwi birds on Stewart Island are special because they are often active during the day, unlike most other kiwis which only appear during the night. Also known for having eradicated introduced predators like ferrets, rats, cats, and stoats from surrounding islands, allowing conservationists to protect endangered bird populations like the kakapo on Codfish Island.

There are three official tracks on the island - the Rakiura Track (a three-day Great Walk), the Northwest Circuit (a 125km, ten-day track), and the Southwest Circuit (about a five-day track I think, mainly in the interior). The island is known for it's deep, deep mud. My tramping guidebook states that "...you will just have to accept the fact that socks will be wet, trousers will be mud-splattered and boots will never be the same." The DOC pamphlet says that the Northwest Circuit is "...only suited to the most experienced (and masochistic) tramper."

I was keen to do the Northwest Circuit, and although Simon's already done a chunk of it (from Mason Bay clockwise to Halfmoon Bay), he offered to come along. Neither of us had ever been tramping for 11 days straight, carrying all of our food and supplies. So it was that we set off for a great adventure...

Caught the morning shuttle from Invercargill to Bluff (Campbelltown Passenger Service), which transfers children to school and tourists to the harbour. The ferry (Foveaux Express) is a catamaran which takes you from Bluff across the Foveaux Strait to Halfmoon Bay on Stewart Island. Getting out of Bluff harbour was a bit rough, with the catamaran pounding on the waves and more than a few people puking into the bags provided. Talked to Friday, one of the crew members who took us to the Snares. Heard that Melanie and crew were to be picked up the following day. Asked for the weather report for the next few weeks. Being small with a maritime climate, Stewart Island weather is quite unpredictable. However, we'd also heard that the next two weeks were to be wet and gray, and Friday confirmed this for us. Great. The island gradually came into sight, and after an hour of sailing, we finally arrived in Halfmoon Bay. Stopped by the DOC office and signed our intentions form. Stashed a set of clean clothing into the locker, and bought hut passes for the two Great Walk huts - North Arm and Port William.

Me at the DOC office in Halfmoon Bay

Set off on the first leg of our tramping adventure, from Halfmoon Bay to North Arm Hut (12km, 4 hours). This stretch follows Main Road out of Halfmoon Bay and takes you onto the Rakiura Track.

Simon on the track with his new beanie (a toque in Canada)

Had lunch at Kaipipi Bay. Checked out the mudflats on the Freshwater River delta. Later that afternoon arrived at the hut, with three Kiwi med students from ChCh (Christchurch), two German women, and one guy from Japan.

Tramped from North Arm Hut to Freshwater Landing Hut (11km, 6-7 hours). Left the cruisy Rakiura Track and were introduced to the mud and steep slopes of the Northwest Circuit. A bit of a slog, eh? Lunch on a beach at low tide, enjoying the sun on some exposed rocks.

A kiwi track!

Thrilled to see the hut at the end of the day. We were the only ones there, so we unpacked, cleaned up, and made dinner. Afterwards, tried fishing on the little wharf, but no luck. Soon we heard noises in the bush, and discovered that we'd be sharing the hut with another two, no wait five, okay maybe seven others? There was Jason Costa from "earth, water, and ether," Dale from South Africa, and about five others from the North Island. Since Simon and I were tramping the track backwards (clockwise) instead of the standard counter-clockwise route, we met different people every night. Pretty cool to meet people and then read what they wrote in the hut books as we traced their route. Jason Costa's were particularly creative...

Left Freshwater Landing Hut and tramped to Mason Bay Hut (14km, 4 hours). A cruisy walk through manuka, tussock, scrub, and swamp. Much of the track was covered with boardwalks, so for one day at least, we spared our boots a trudge through the muck! Mid-morning had a break to explore the bush.

Track winding through tunnel of manuka trees

Boardwalk from Freshwater Landing to Mason Bay

Later that afternoon we approached the coast and the track wound through sand dunes. Passed Island Hill, and the Island Hill Homestead with it's sheep shearing shed, old tractor, and sheep dip. Foreigners are fascinated by all things related to sheep farming, and so I stood there snapping photos of the shed and miscellaneous outbuildings. I'm sure the average sheep farmer would stand there, mystified, scratching his head in confusion and bemusement. Why would you want to photograph THAT?!

Simon tries his best to get the ole tractor working

Eventually reached the hut, washed my socks (PHEW!), and basked in the afternoon sunshine. Read a Footrot Flats comic book left at the hut - a classic Kiwi read. Hours later, Margret and Steffi from Germany arrived to share the hut with us. Found that someone had left their return ferry ticket at the hut (can't get back to civilisation without that...), and since Margret and Steffi were back in Halfmoon Bay before us, they offered to take it to the ferry terminal. Saw that a guy named Pascal Harris had signed the hut book. My supervisor Charlotte had informed me days earlier that her nephew Pascal would be on the island for some bird-watching. She described him as having curly hair, being a "vague-looking boy with a vacant face." Oi, so you're rather fond of him, aye? Simon and I hiked down to the beach to watch the sunset, buffeted by sand blowing across the dunes.

Sunset on the beach at Mason Bay

Back to the hut, where we discovered that Margret and Steffi had pitched a tent outside, so we had about 20 bunks to choose from for the night. Heard kiwis all night, but still no sightings.

Woke up and thought that given the height of the sun, it must be no earlier than 10:30am. Owing to design, naturally, we had no watch or alarm along to determine whether we were correct. Shocked when Margret informed us it was only 8:30! Left Mason Bay Hut and tramped to Hellfire Pass Hut (15km, 7 hours). Gorgeous views as we walked along Mason Bay, but strong winds and loose sand meant that this was, for me, the most difficult part of the entire 11-day tramp. Rained a bit, so we stopped in the bush for a while.

Simon tramping along the beach at Mason Bay

I stop to fill up my water bottle in the river

A backwards glance toward Mason Bay from the track as we head to Hellfire Pass Hut

Kept going along gorgeous tracks, and eventually arrived at the hut, where Takuya from Japan had already settled in. Simon has by now designated himself the official fire-lighter, so within the hour we have a roaring fire to warm ourselves by. We have not yet seen any kiwis, and are giving up hope.

Tramped from Hellfire Pass Hut to East Ruggedy Hut [14km, 7-8 hours]. Walked along the beach at Waituna Bay, and along West Ruggedy Beach with gorgeous views on the Rugged Islands.

Some mud on the track

West Ruggedy Beach

At some point on the track we met a youngish-looking woman named Karen. She was tramping with her daughter Rachel, but had left the hut early to get a head start. We thought it would be great to meet Rachel down the track and introduce ourselves, saying "You must be Rachel." About half an hour later we met another woman about 30ish, and discovered to our shock that this was Rachel. So Karen must have been about 50 or 60! Stopped for a while to check out the sanddunes. Eventually arrived at the hut, and met Steve from Christchurch (ChCh). He was very, very talkative but also very, very kind. Tramping alone, he was also eager to reduce the weight of his pack, so he passed on some extra mashed potatoes and scroggin to Simon and I.

Decided to rearrange the dining table in the hut. Took last photo with digital camera, and switched to manual, so you'll have to ask me to see any photos from here onwards : ) Tramped from East Ruggedy Hut to Long Harry Hut [9.5km, 5 hours]. At one point I saw some large animal crashing through the bush, and immediately recognised it as a boar with four legs and two large tusks. My heart began to pound a little faster as I wondered what to do. Eventually it emerged from the bush onto the track, and I discovered that it was not a boar, but two adult kiwi! These things are huge! The size of large chickens! Anyway, one retreated into the bush while the other one sat on the track and watched us. Simon very, very slowly began to reach for my camera, which was sensibly tucked into the top of my pack. Eventually the second kiwi scurried into the bush, but remained behind a log where it viewed us for quite some time. I managed to snap two photos, one which looks like a bunch of leaves and trees, and the other which looks like a bunch of leaves and trees with a kiwi beak and two feet visible by the log. Thrilled to see not one but two kiwi, and during the day as well! Continued tramping for a bit and soon reached the tiny 6-bunk hut, where we met Frank and Christine from Germany. Later I learned that Frank had immediately thought I was a German, and had whispered this to Christine. He was disappointed to find out that I was Canadian. Simon and I escaped to the beach to do some fishing. Along the beach we saw a rare yellow-eyed penguin - our second treat of the day! Unfortunately couldn't find a decent rock from which to fish. Heading back along the beach, we caught sight of the penguin once again, scurring up the slope to its nest. Back to the hut where we spent a great evening with Frank and Christine, speaking German, playing cards, and tasting pancakes Christine made out of buckwheat flour and water, topped with bits of melted chocolate. Caught sight of a light out in the distance, on what appeared to be our first sighting of the South Island since leaving for our tramp.

Apparently a kiwi appears at the hut each morning around 9am, but Simon and I decided not to wait around for it. Started the tramped from Long Harry Hut to Yankee River Hut [8.5km, 5-6 hours]. Picked up some beautiful shells as we walked along Smoky Beach. Arrived at the hut, a gorgeous location by the river and the ocean (with a view on the South Island), but with a dunny that was nearly overflowing. Met Rico from Israel and Jessica from Germany, plus three Americans - Raoul from Minnesota, Ed from somewhere, and someone from Rhode Island. Saw something that appeared to be granules of gold in the water and on the sand, not surprising since people once came here to mine for gold. Fished using limpet as bait, and just as I was walking down the beach to start dinner, Simon caught a blue cod! I went back to the hut for my camera, and returned to where Simon had been fishing to capture some photos. Neither one of us have ever caught a fish before, much less cleaned it. So while Simon sawed away at it with his knife, I stood nearby and fanned away the hordes of sandflies that came to investigate. Had a bit of a menu change... fettucini with a white wine and mushroom sauce (OK, powder from a packet) topped with freshly caught blue cod! That night we strung up our food from the roof because we heard there were rats in the area. Kind of like bear-proofing food in North America, except inside and much less hazardous.

Tramped from Yankee River Hut to New Christmas Village Hut [12km, 6 hours]. Walked along Lucky Beach. When we finally arrived at the hut, we were the only ones there. Didn't see another soul until the following day. Saw a huge ship anchored just offshore. Strung up our food again so the rats wouldn't eat it. Soon drifted off to sleep. Heard one scurrying on the floor that night.

Our plan was to climb Mt Anglem, which at 980m is the highest point on Stewart Island, but it was overcast and we were lazy : ) Instead, we tramped from New Christmas Village Hut to Bungaree Hut [11.5km, 6 hours]. Met two couples on the track - two Kiwis, then a Canadian and an Ozzie. Weather gradually improved, and it would have been a perfect day to climb Mt Anglem. Checked out an old sawmill engine, then stopped at Murray Beach. We'd been told that there were researchers there from Otago University studying yellow-eyed penguins. Thought it might be Melanie or Maureen. However, no one in sight. Had lunch, lazed around, and swam. Saw a huge crew of trampers come through, about 11 in total. A motley group of people of different ages and fitness levels. Speculated on where they were from, then later discovered from one of the hut books that they were from the navy. After these adventures, I had sand in my hair until we returned to Dunedin and I could once again shower. Walked along a tramline and checked out another steam engine. Arrived at Bungaree Hut, where we met David and Lachlan who had just graduated from engineering at Canterbury University in Christchurch. Went for another swim. Learned David's way to save fuel when cooking rice - bring it to a boil, then wrap the billy in a towel, tuck it into your sleeping bag, and let it sit for a few hours while you go about your business (theirs was fishing and snorkelling). I went for a walk down the beach and found a beautiful shell, perfectly intact. Returning to the hut, the ocean and sky were the colour of a paua shell. Strung up the food again. Couldn't sleep so was up late writing.

Was overcast and rainy all morning, so we hung around the hut until the weather "cleared," that is, we got bored of waiting and decided to leave. I declared that one day I'd like to write a collection of short stories or a novel entitled "Rain." Keep your eyes peeled, folks. Tramped from Bungaree Hut to Port William Hut [6km, 3-4 hours]. A pretty cruisy walk. When we reached the hut (one of the Great Walk huts therefore well maintained), it looked like an advert for a fireburning stove. Clean, well-dressed folks sitting inside, reading magazines, nibbling on biccies, and looking well-rested and relaxed. All the boots outside were clean-as. Inside we met a couple who were celebrating their wedding anniversary, plus three American guys two of whom were from Alaska. Simon and I, of course, were the hard-as trampers with bragging rights. Realised that although I still had heaps of sand in my hair, it was probably inappropriate to continue scratching my head in public. Played hacky with the American guys, then went for a walk down the beach. Saw a fishing boat moored at the wharf, with two fishermen cleaning their catch. It took them about 10 seconds per fish, whereas Simon reckoned it took him about 10 minutes to do the same job at Yankee River. One of the Americans hurt his foot playing on the swing outside the hut, and asked us to order a water taxi for him when we arrived in town the following day.

Tramped from Port William Hut to Halfmoon Bay [4 hours]. Stopped to check out a clearing by the ocean. Saw heaps of orange tags along the track, and came up with heaps of possible explanations. Checked out an old sawmill at Maori Beach. Discovered a smelled nasty thing decomposing in the water nearby, and reached the conclusion that it used to be a dolphin. The track ends at Lee Bay, and there's a huge metal chain emerging from one side of the track and sinking into the ground on the other side, symbolising the anchor of Maui according to Maori legend. Packs were much, much lighter than when we started. We were much dirtier and smellier. Walked along Lee Bay Road and Horseshoe Bay Road into Oban. Experienced a Stewart Island traffic jam - two cars on the road at once! Saw heaps of bags full of gravel and paua by the side of the road, plus a phone cleverly installed on a tree (Simon tried to order some pizza, but unfortunately there was no answer), and a wee doll house called "Rimu View." Finally returned to Oban; when we arrived two weeks ago, I thought it looked like the end of the earth, and now it looked like the height of civilisation. Went to DOC, signed out, filled in a kiwi spotting form, got stuff from our locker, ordered a water taxi for the American dude, booked a shuttle, got cleaned up, and changed into some clean clothes. Incredibly, saw Frank and Christine again; they had slogged along and made it into Oban early. After investigating the food options, I bought an apple at Ship to Shore, the local dairy, and some soup and bread at the South Sea Hotel. No banks or ATMs on the island, so we had to make due with cash, VISA, or EFTPOS (debit card, paid at point of purchase). Simon managed to order himself a double order of fries with some more blue cod. Got a long black and a brownie at Just Cafe. Kept seeing Christine and Frank around town; Frank was looking for work since they had to stay on the island for a while until their friends returned. Went to DOC to waste some time, then nearly missed the boat. Arrived at the terminal around 3:28 and caught the 3:30 ferry from Halfmoon Bay to Bluff. As soon as we left, clouds started to close in, and after half an hour we could no longer make out the island. Caught the 4:30 shuttle from Bluff to Invercargill, then the 5:15 InterCity bus from Invercargill to Dunedin. Had 15 minutes before Centre City New World closed, so we rushed through the aisles to pick up some groceries for our rumbling bellies. Hired a taxi up to the flat. Unpacked, did our laundry, put nasty socks in a bucket to soak overnight. Eventually had a shower, and tried to remove some of the sand from my hair.

A few things that didn't really fit in anywhere else, so they've got their own section...

Flora. Saw grass at the homestead just before Mason Bay; introduced since there are very few native grasses in NZ. Marram grass in the dunes, a weed. Native bush with rimu (I had Simon on the lookout for big droopy ones I could photograph), manuka (forests that from faraway looked like moss), flax, cutting grass, bush lawyer, fern trees (ponga), and ferns in the forest. The type of forest and beach changes constantly.

Fauna. Saw heaps of birds - tomtits, fantails, parakeets, wood pigeons, oystercatchers (black birds with orange beaks that forage on the beaches), tuis, bellbirds, and dotterells. A few deer tracks, and what looked like kitten tracks, but no sightings of either. Possum poop. Rats in the bushes and in the hut. Sandflies by the millions. Paua shells strewn along the beach (they're univalves).

Smells. US. WE SMELLED. OUR CLOTHES SMELLED. Towards the end I was using Simon's deodorant plus my citronella-scented bug spray to improve the smell of my shirt. Wait a sec, that patch on my shirt smells like...?! Enforced washing at the hut every night.

Sounds. Rhythmic rolling of waves on the ocean. One or two planes. Simon snoring.

Sights. Sand with black and brown grains, with patterns like tree branches or feathers, the pattern changing constantly but almost imperceptibly as the water flowed across it. Pumice stones, wood, boulders, and shells strewn across the beach. Two track poles that had been sand-blasted by the wind to resemble a topographical map. Buoys along the beach and nearby trails as track markers. A few large ships. Views of bays, Codfish Island, and the South Island. Derelict hunter's camps with bones scattered on the nearby land.

Huts. Lots of pretty shells in the huts. Some people were bums and did not replace the firewood they used. Nightly ritual of scanning the hut books for people we knew or people from countries we identified ourselves with - Simon was already in the books, saw a few Canadians and a handful of OUTC members (Espen and Synnove; Jo Prince and Team Pantene; Danilo, Megan, Fliss, and Roy). Not many Kiwis on our trip, mainly Germans (they're everywhere aren't they?). Overall most trampers are Kiwis, North Americans, Europeans, and Israelis. Other nightly ritual was trying to dry or air out our clothes.

Track. Mud and roots, basically. Tracks to the side of the main track where people had tried to avoid the mud. Boardwalk when you least need it. Developing a sense for the depth of mud. Eventually not caring a bit about whether I was walking through mud or not. Debated the wisdom of walking through the mud and preserving the surrounding native bush, or walking around and destroying plants but making our life easier. By the end of the tramp our boots were no longer recognisable as such. Footbridges now and then, which can only be crossed one person at a time. Developed a theory about mud gremlins who hid in the forest and produced mud every night in their mud factory, spreading fresh mud on the tracks every morning for the trampers coming through that day. And the fodder for their mud factory? The occasional tramper sacrificed for the good of the island. If you look closely you can see eyeballs looking up at you from the mud... Sometimes trees were down on the track and we (I) had to haul my (short) legs over them. Our typical late afternoon conversation... couldn't be more than another hour to the hut, I reckon?! Absolute joy when you see signs to the hut, the hut roof, or a dunny by the side of the trail.

Time. We had no watch with us, so had no idea how long have we walked (this was probably a good thing) or what time it was. Giving rise to ludicrous statements like "Lets stop for lunch in about half an hour." Like we'd know, really.

Weather. The climate on Stewart Island is unpredictable. Rain falls on 275 days each year. We were lucky to have some rain on a few days, with a few days of brilliant sunshine.

Food. Simon always hungry and eating his Olivani. Rationing our food. Mmm... peas and potatoes! He gave me the tender tip of a vine to eat, tastes a bit like asparagus. Apparently, though, a kiwi male eats roots, shoots, and leaves...

Thoughts. Tramping always makes you realise how much you take technology for granted. When you tramp, everything looks and sounds amazing. You ask simple questions, like why is the ocean salty. And why on earth do we subject ourselves to tramping adventures? With your boyfriend? An incredibly beautiful and isolated place. Making plans for Friday in town and in Dunedin (ice cream, coffee, hot showers, clean clothes), but realising all the same that it was just too beautiful to leave...

Love Christine