Dingo's log 2011 - part 4

4. Dingo in New Zealand: Doubtful to Dunedin

Rejane's return journey, after two nights in Te Anau sampling the delights of civilization, involved a bus ride, ferry across lake Manapouri then another bus trip over the pass to Deep Cove. Bringing back fresh veggies, newspapers and all the necessary to start knitting a sweater, the latter items a sure sign of incipient cabin fever.

Next day we went for one our best walks in Fjordland, the old Doubtful Sound track in perfect weather, not too rooty, dry underfoot and the sunlight slanting through the lush temperate rainforest, a delight of fern, moss and leaf threaded by songstrous birds, the smaller of these bold enough to alight underfoot. On the way we talked through what would be our next move, the options being to continue up the coast to Milford, which would commit us to a five-night sail up the west coast to

Nelson. Or would we call this our last fjord and turn round and go south about the island onto the east coast. By the end of the walk we had decided to go south.

Leaving behind Deep Cove we sailed into Hall Arm and thence into the tortuous depths of Crooked Arm, anchoring for the night.

Next day we walked the track at its head, which connects to the head of Dagg Sound.

Thence we moved to Gaer Arm and the Camelot River. which responded to its medieval mystical name with garlands of mist threading trees, cliffs and hills for the three days we were there.

Tying up in Precipice Cove we were gifted a couple of huge crayfishes by a fishing boat and had to borrow a big pot to accommodate them.

Then we found ourselves sailing out of the mouth of Doubtful Sound and heading south for Dusky with a favourable wind early one afternoon. The coast is wild and with the sea kindly we scooted down to Breaksea Island, slipped once again into Acheron Passage and fetched up in my favourite cove at the junction with Wet Jacket Arm.

It now blew a hoolie and we spent two nights here before slipping round to the snuggery of Luncheon Cove in Dusky. Two days later we sped down on a nor-wester past West Cape, the most awesome chaos of rock pinnacles, skimmed round the off shore shoals and rocks off cape Providence at the entrance to Chalky Inlet, then slipped into Broke Adrift passage to enter Preservation Inlet.

Drawing breath we waited overnight for the 4 metre north-westerly swell to abate somewhat before we tackled Point Puysegur. With a big south-westerly ground swell and the norwester still running, we shot down Otago's Retreat on the beginning of the ebb and entered a chaotic area of rolling swells, pyramidal mountains and at one point a 3-metre vertical wall of green water. I gunned the motor, yelled to Rejane to hang on, then closed my eyes as the Dingo did her stuff rearing up, over and then crashing into the hole beyond with a huge bang, nothing broken just another half hour of dodging walls and mountains till we were round the point and into regular waters.

We sailed into Foveaux Strait on a dying wind then motored all night to Port Williams on the north coast of Stewart Island. We slept for four hours and then, urged on by Merri, “good weather for getting onto the East coast!”, we sailed east  past Ruapuke Island and into the evening. Passing the Nuggets in the night we motored into the dawn and the welcome sight of Otago Peninsula.

Wending our way up the 8 miles of channel we were directed to a public wharf in the center of

Dunedin whence we walked around like stunned mullets taking in the bustle. Next day we moved to piles in the Otago Yacht Club basin, intending to stay a week and move on North for warmer weather. Instead we stayed a month in this charming city with its big university, students ('scarfies'), second hand bookshops and cinemas (Rejane managed 8 films in four weeks).

We made a trip to visit Jo Haines and Allan in Wanaka and fell in love with the clarity and mountains. Back in Dunedin, we made the decision that to rush north was not the cruising way, so we laid Dingo up at the yacht club for the winter. We bussed up to stay with Andi Henderson in

Lyttleton, where Andi showed us round the earthquake sights: the empty plots and ruins of the town’s five and only pubs bringing tears to the eye. We had not meaningfully met since the

Shivling expedition in 1988 so there was a lot of catching up to be done.

After a quick visit to the West coast with Tracey, Rejane’s old travelling friend, and Michael on the scenic Arthur's pass railroad, we boarded a jet and crossed the Tasman in three hours and fifteen minutes. The same day, we were back home in our cosy home.

Hope this finds you all well and happy. The adventure will continue when summer comes.

Love from us two.

PS. Thank you to all of you who have sent us emails during our voyage. We might not have replied to all because of limited connection, but it was most appreciated!