Stewart Island, New Zealand....Isolation, Bugs and MUD

  Stewart Island off of the south tip of the South Island, New Zealand is the place to go if you want to have a strenuous workout hike in the bush. One can take a 2-2.5 hour ferry over to the island or a short flight.

  I arrived at the tiny Invercargill International Airport on Friday the 13th and was not expecting the facility to be so, let's say, cute. I mingled with a few passengers as we watched a 7 seat plane head down the runway (there were 2 airplanes on the tarmac). The plane turned around and the seven people got out, there was something wrong with the brakes. These people then loaded into the small plane that I and the others were supposed to get on and they flew off into the black clouds. A worker opened a sliding barn door on a shed and inside was a 3rd plane. I started to joke about Friday the 13th, will we make it across alive ?? (I did not know the Switz girls were afraid of flying, I found that out later), I wrote in my journal "I hope this little craft gets us there". We loaded into the plane and headed into the black cloud, it had already started to rain. Minor turbulence began, followed by heavier rain and a crack of thunder. Next thing I knew was the small plane was bouncing around like a toy; there was lightening, the planes engine was sputtering. I had a side view of the pilot who was frantically pulling and pushing buttons; my excitement turned to fear....that did not last long, it was a short flight.

   After landing at Halfmoon Bay and finding information at the rangers station I headed out with my backpack to do some hiking. After 6.5 hours of walking up and down hills of mud I made it to the Bungaree Hut, I wondered what I was getting myself into. There were a couple of views of nice bays, some nice trees, and a few birds but what went in my journal was mud,mud, mud.

                        

                        

I picked a spot with a view of some islands off of the beach to examine the blister on my foot that I still had from hiking the Heaphy Trek up on the South Island.

  In the morning I headed down the trail to a beach (lots of shells) before I took the 4.5 hour hike to the Christmas Village Hut. I did not see any people (other hikers) but that was okay, I had mud. From my journal....Stewart Island is 65 kms from north-south and 40 kms from east-west. Halfmoon bay (where the ferry lands) has about 200 people, mostly fishermen who use generators for power. I did not go up to Mt Anglem, the islands highest point, because it was very cloudy and I wouldn't have been  able to see anything. 6 hunters showed up to the hut and they made deer soup so it was nice that they shared.

                        

   I went down to the beach in the morning and there was a beautiful sunrise, the first sun in 7 days, a great way to start the day. Most all of the trail goes through heavy bush, not too often that you get a view. After hours of up and down in the mud I ended up falling in a creek after a branch I used for support snapped, I got scraped up a little. Once I reached the Yankee River I soaked up the sun and took the opportunity to take off my wet shoes and wash the mud off of my legs from the knee down. I ended the day at Smokey Beach (beautiful 3 kms of golden sand) which came after 11 hours of hiking,

                        

I passed a hut about half way so I could push myself to finish this adventure earlier. At least at Smokey Beach the sand flies were not eating me alive. For the most part on this trail if you stop you will be swarmed by many "man eaters".

  After another hiking day alone, I went up very steep muddy hills and then back down steep muddy hills, I reached Long Harry Bay. My legs felt like rubber and yet again I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I was making good speed and figured I may be able to do the 7-10 day North West Circuit in 5.5 days.

  I went down to the beach and spotted my first blue penguins, they were hiding among the rocks and were so cute; too bad I had to leave, the sand flies were ferocious. These penguins fish most of the day, then around sundown they come out of the water to dry off; flapping and cleaning them self  before heading for a safe place to bunker down.

                       


 There are some wild cats here that hunt them but for the most part they are safe on land. I went down to the beach early in the morning to see if I could see the penguins again, only a dead baby unfortunately; I noticed some guys waving on a fishing boat. I waved back and then a couple of minutes later a dinghy approached and Philip asked me if I wanted to have breakfast on the boat. We cruised around the coast with his two workers and retrieved some of his crayfish traps.

                      

The one worker John cooked up so much different seafood, it was delicious; after we ate they took me back to the beach and I headed out for the Freshwater Hike.

  The journey to the Freshwater Hut was excruciating, the signs had listed the timing for completion at 13-14 hours and it took me about 10. This was a real strenuous, okay, ridiculously strenuous; I was sore all over and talk about filthy. My legs were getting so tired; about 5kms in to the hike my left leg sank down to my shorts in the mud; it was good that I held on to a tree because I could not feel the bottom.Both legs went down to the knees at least 5 times and when the mud was not deep it only went up to half of my shins; no wonder the logs at the huts all had the same messages...MUD. The highlights of the day were: the breakfast, I startled a deer, was startled by a baby possum and the scenery was beautiful all along the Ruggedy Flats, which is the biggest valley on the island. There was a nice beach at Long Harry Bay and to my surprise, two Germans and a one Switz hiker.

   The last day was a grueling 7 hr trek (supposed to be 9) that I finished just in time to sign out at the rangers station and catch the ferry.There were at least 15 swing bridges on the island which really helped for crossing poor area's. Once I got back to Invercargill I talked to a guy who used to have a farm on Stewart Island; he said that he has seen a deer sink to the neck in the "MUD SWAMP".

   Often when I say to a friend that I went on a tough adventure he says "I am glad that I was not there".