My first guest blogger – Kay Ball

Thank you to Kay for being my first guest blogger and sharing your recent adventure in the Abel Tasman National Park.

Who is Kay Ball?  Click here to read Kay’s bio.

Memorable Moments

A flurry of last-minute texts, prior to leaving the North Island, flew between the four of us.

The issue … how to cram multiple layers of warm clothing, plus toiletries, deemed essential, into our seven kilo “Carry On” bag permitted on our Auckland to Nelson flight!  Thoughtfully, (or not) we’d allowed one only 23-kilo bag for sharing between us all. This for all boots, sleeping bags, raincoats and whatever else we were unable to jam in the “Carry On.”

How exciting to depart the rain-drenched Katikati area, the storms, Cyclone Gabriel, local tornadoes and even more rain. Causing ongoing disruption and misery!

Five whole days’ break from the daily grind! To a calmer world!  Off to sun-soaked Abel Tasman Park, near Nelson.

Escape to active adventure, laughter and fun with friends. Luxury camping, plus a dose of outright, self-indulgent pampering! Albeit outdoors. Meals included!

Our Coastal brochure promised glorious sea vistas, lush native bush, and alluring golden beaches whilst all walkers needed to do was focus on ws walking.  Exploring the coastal tracks at our own pace, carrying the bare minimum. Bliss!

Yes, a “posh” walk. Our heavy packs are to be transported to evening campsites, tents erected and dismantled for us, safe drinking water, pre-dinner drinks and platters provided. This latter was a strong selling point!  Such a treat for hard-working women! In addition, all meals to be taken care of by our knowledgeable host.  Leaving us ample time to savour our stunning environment. To laugh, enjoy company, relax and recharge.  And so we did!

In hindsight, perhaps it unfolded in ways different to our initial expectations.

Day 1:  Embracing the Day

Repacked, we had eaten breakfast at the Nelson motel and eagerly waited for the bus prior to 7am. We were promptly collected, along with others travelling out to Marahau Village, over an hour away. Rollicking loud music played, no name confirmation was asked for, coffee on arrival was promised. We were off to a rousing start. Going with the flow!

See map at end of this post.

On arrival, we hung around outside the Marahau office amongst the organised chaos of guides and fellow adventurers. We waited patiently to meet our host and learn what the next steps involved. Our anticipated coffee fix, to our disappointment, never materialised.

Eventually, we were handed a map of the coast and tracks. The boat would drop us at Totaranui, where we could explore the tracks on the Anapai Headland for a few hours.

Later, we would boat back to Awaroa, walk approx. 1.5 hours over to Onetahuti Bay to our first campsite. Yes! That sounded great!

Marahau Beach has huge contrasts between high and low tide.  Bar-Tailed Godwits migrating annually from Siberia were feeding on shellfish at this low tide. Our boat, filled with walkers and kayakers on board, was gingerly towed by a tractor out to deeper water.

Oops! The boat motor grunted, refusing to lower itself into the sea!

Everyone kept calm, and the tractor driver returned to collect us, towing the boat tediously back to the distant shore. Trim Oil was then replenished. Shortly we were towed again over those lengthy low-tide flats back to the deeper sea. A minor hitch, rapidly fixed!

Without more ado, we were motoring on the water, sun blazing, powering up the stunning coastline.

Our Captain soon proved to be affable, capable and quietly knowledgeable of this area.  The sea sparkled, a vivid blue and calm. He edged his boat into the best close spot to enable us to photograph the unusually shaped rock named Cottage Loaf Rock.

The orange-gold sands of Totaranui Beach greeted us warmly. Off we strode along the Anapai Bay track, to the north, keen to explore the headland.

The hot sun drummed down on our heads, we trudged up hills in the heat … amply rewarded with exquisite views!

Later in the afternoon, as prearranged, we met the boat and were transported south to Awaroa Bay.

Walking up from the stunning Awaroa Beach, to our delight, we discovered the “Lodge!”  Ahh! Firstly, and most importantly, a relaxing stop outside, underneath the covered shade.

Cold cider and iced coffee were welcomed. A real highlight after our early morning travels on this first “Big Day Out”. We chilled for a while, appreciating the surrounding peace, the nikau palms and the diverse native greenery.

Re-energised, we tramped onwards, enjoying a leisurely 1.5 hour walk along the winding bush track towards Onetahuti. Our first night’s camp!

Our first impression of Onetahuti was a long, sweeping bay of golden sand. Beyond was the bushy backdrop of green hills. The bay faced out to Tonga Island, which was surrounded by marine reserve.  We trekked down the hills, appreciating that our tents were already erected. Now to sort our sleeping bags and packs, prior to the night.

The fun started!

The invasion of the Wekas! Yes … YOU all know about Wekas!

Well, some of us northerners didn’t!

A pesky weka tugged the zipper open on Celia’s bag, and ripped out her snacks, dragging and devouring the contents at speed. It discarded the packaging … we don’t know where!

Not the best environmental practise!

A similar fate happened to Marg’s sweets. Another smart alec weka silently pecked at her closed zipper, prized her bag open, swiftly attacking the plastic wrapping. Triumphantly, this practised weka fled with the sugary contents.

The devious critters returned repeatedly, whilst we were distracted, and made off with remains of any loot. Strewing litter along the sand and forest floor as they raced into the hidden depths of the bush.

However, we all knew a cold wine and a freshly prepared platter awaited us. All would be well after partaking in a few eagerly sought refreshments.

Mmmm!  Not quite!

Our likeable host seemed somewhat distracted and out of practise at the logistics of catering for a group. Oh dear!

The envisaged luxury was not to the high standard we ladies had imagined!

The platter wasn’t forthcoming, and wine was reluctantly doled out.

To add to this disappointment, rain set in.  Four tired women huddled together in one small tent, wondering if and when the scrumptious promised dinner would eventuate.

Before too long, the rain subsided. Racing over to the cooking shelter, we observed the dinner preparations were barely beginning. It was now getting dark and late. Patience was wearing out and tempers were in danger of wearing thin.

So much for the “luxury” part!” we grumbled amongst ourselves.

After some sitting about, waiting, Celia, with a darkly muttered, “I used to do catering” stood up, took charge of the pots, finished cooking the chicken and rice, grabbed the plates and served up everyone’s dinner. It was delicious!

Quite a laugh …er … in retrospect!  (Truthfully, we did spend some time the next day debating amongst ourselves how dinnertime might pan out later on.)

Next, sleep time … not too late, to ensure we awoke fresh to greet a sparkling new day of adventure and fun.

Celia and I nestled into our sleeping bags, got comfy on the Thermarest mattresses, and whispered a little prior to drifting off to sleep, calmed by the rhythmic sound of choppy waves hitting the shore.

No! Not quite!

Whirr, whirr!  High-pitched droning circled around our heads. All night long!

Black clouds of Mozzies wreaked havoc with our slumber. Mozzies partied and feasted on any bare skin left exposed.

Our mistake! The inner tent zip was not completely closed up. Could we blame a weka?

In fact, a ten centimetre gap was unzipped.  An oversight never to be repeated!

Day 2:  The Unceasing Climb (or so it seemed to some)

Firstly, a cooked breakfast of bacon and eggs to fortify, cooked by our amiable host.  This grand effort appeased our somewhat ruffled feathers from the previous night.

Oops! Another memorable moment!

The cooking shelter was still murky in this early morning light as Mary spooned the milk powder directly into her coffee. As she took her first sip she remarked “This coffee is sweet, it’s got quite a fruity taste to it”.

The rest of us hunted round for filtered water to mix the milk powder for our cuppas.

Oh! Enlightenment!

The labelled milk powder tin was not true to name … it contained Raro powder! Mary was drinking coffee with “Raro”. Not milk powder! We got a bit of mileage out of that faux pas, although, strictly, the error was not hers.

We made do with black tea that morning. The milk powder never came to light.

Next … the hunt for mozzie spray to deal to those busy blighters alive and circling inside our tent. I borrowed spray and sprayed with gusto! Clusters of dark heaps piled on our tent floor. To be flicked out with the sand. There was no available brush and shovel on this “posh” walk.

As we lumbered up the stony track, the sun warmed our backs. We wove our way upwards along the coast towards our destination of Anchorage. We hiked through beautiful ferns, hanging mosses, large silver astelias and other coastal flora. Green akeake trees abounded along with black ponga and silver fern.  Waterfalls flowed softly over damp boulders. Grey lichen covered inky rocks as the streams journeyed down to the nearby ocean. Trunks of twisted Kanaka created dark shadows, the gloom a respite from the intense heat.

Bark Bay

Bark Bay was reached after a couple of hours. We rested up on the veranda of the well-maintained DOC Hut, chatting with a friendly local doing the caretaking. A peaceful bay, it faced towards a vivid blue ocean, accessible only by water. In addition … to our credit, we ladies tolerated and even laughed at a determined weka closing in on us, calculating the best angle to snatch our morning tea sandwich out of our hands.

We traipsed on, walking the high tide tracks, the longer route, for a further four hours.

Sometimes we deviated down side tracks leading out to headlands with either expansive sea views or glorious golden beaches.

By now, we were feeling decidedly grubby and sweaty, so we took the side trip to Cleopatra’s Pool. Shrouded by lush bush, freshwater thundering down over gigantic boulders, we all took a rather speedy dip. Yes, heads immersed too. Fully, under the clear, ice-cold water. Shudder, shudder!

Yes, it was worth the pain! We were cleansed!

Frequently, we passed walkers, mostly coming from the Marahau end towards us.  Some were younger hikers on a NZ adventure. Others, family groups and locals venturing out from Nelson for a one or 2 day break. Sometimes we chatted, exchanging info.

At one point, I was tentatively negotiating a rocky stream crossing that had an uneven bottom with hard-to-see holes. The former bridge had been washed out during the previous August storm.  Gallantly, a young overseas visitor on the opposite bank threw his walking pole for me to grasp.  That speedy action saved me from toppling into this thigh-deep water. The issue wasn’t me stumbling in a hole on this warm afternoon. It was my phone! Saved!

 

Anchorage Bay provides a safe haven for boats in stormy weather.

Our erected tents were a welcome sight, nestled cosily under tall, twisted Kanaka.

Our affable host greeted us with refreshments. Dinner preparations progressed smoothly and in good time, with a smidgeon of help. The nachos were nutritious and tasty. The company was convivial. No plagues of mozzies to torment us.

We observed an unexpected and hilarious show at dinnertime, causing us to almost fall off our wooden seats with laughter.

A sight to behold! A rotund black piglet with a curly tail came hurtling out of the bush and charged into our tented campground. Hot on his heels, a cranky weka gave chase. The two wrestled together on the ground for some time. We watched in silence, astounded. It seemed there was no serious enmity between them, more a struggle for supremacy!

Suddenly piglet raced off across the camp, through the trees, and was lost to view. Shortly after, he re-emerged close by our table. Weka followed in determined pursuit, closing in on piggy’s curly tail.  In a flash, wee piggy disappeared through the hole in the bush, his point of entry. The weka let him go, resuming its earlier wanderings.

Perhaps, piglets evening adventure was over. Maybe he was retreating back to the comfort of his Mama in the bush.

Peace reigned in the camp once more.

Day Three: Return to Reality

We awoke revived, after a tranquil night of beloved sleep. A nutritious breakfast of muesli and fruit awaited us, washed down with … black tea.

We wandered to the nearby shore, cuppa in hand, and sat ourselves on a log, enjoying the serenity of early morning nature. Nearby a fellow traveller from Japan quietly paced and chanted his peaceful meditation. A calming experience we will treasure and hold close.

We took the wide, coastal track from Anchorage back to Marahau at a comfortable pace. Time was given to admire the sky-blue views and to meander down to dazzling bays. We felt contentedly weary and also grateful for this warm, pleasant weather.

Our journey took us through thriving native bush for roughly four hours. To eat we perched on a rocky ledge, devouring our lunch of unexpectedly delightful cold pasta. Our obliging host had cooked it at breakfast time especially for us to take. Thank you, Rob!

Eventually, we trailed down the descending track to sea level, stopping in at an open plan café for refreshments of our choice. Cold sustenance and rest! Pure delight!

Later in the afternoon, we ambled along the dusty road to our Marahau meeting place, satisfied and ready to board the bus for the return journey to Nelson.

Elated yet sated!  A glorious celebration reaffirming our friendships and the power of the magnificent outdoors upon our lives!

Detailed Abel Tasman map

Who is Kay Ball, my first guest blogger?

Kay Ball is a Great Gran who enjoys outdoor activity, often walking the local Kaimai tracks with friends.  She reads, enjoys yoga, and gardens, is conservation minded and treasures her family and friends.

For many years, Kay lived with family, on a semi-remote bush block, a stunning rocky river within walking distance. Amongst a myriad of lessons, she learnt on the run, were …

1. Never underestimate the weather!  Sunshine can rapidly disappear in the lower Kaimai. That suspicious black cloud above may burst directly upon you below, drenching and chilling you to the bone.  Or it may hang about, taunting you, prior to gaily floating away to release its heavy contents elsewhere.
2. Rats, Possums, and stoats decimate life in our bush. Gardens and plants are ravished, birdlife slaughtered, and buildings invaded. Hence, Kay has a passion for trapping!
3. The old adage … “Truth is stranger than fiction” applies to Kay’s experience of bush living.  She has known many colourful characters, admiring their inventiveness and wondrous feats, alongside shaking her head in disbelief at some of the more dubious escapades.

Looking back, life has been an interesting voyage with more capers ahead!

Thank you Kay, for your sharing your adventure! Click here to return to Kay’s story at the beginning of this post.

Do you have adventures you would like to share?

If you like having adventures and would like to contribute to my blog, please do not hesitate to contact me via email:  hdwickham@gmail.com.  Till next time, take care out there.  🙂