No Fixed Abode: Water, water everywhere and plenty to drink

Mon 11th January 2016 - Doubtful Sound: Kayak trip day 1

Raised by the alarm clock at 05.45am Glenn duly drove off, with Yvonne still stirring in the bed, to Manapouri where our kayaking/camping trip started. With a sprint shower and major porridge breakfast we stuffed our day packs with essentials: sunscreen, insect repellent and bite cream, all recommendations from previous travellers and Kiwi locals warning us about a Sandfly, a small biting fly that leaves a particularly irritating itch for several days.

At 07.00am with sunny blue skies we met Mathiau, our kayaking guide along with a family of three Dutch, elderly Mum & Dad and older son, and three Swedes, a young couple and friend.

Getting to Doubtful Sound is quite a journey in itself, entailing a boat trip across Manapouri Lake to a point called West Arm, where a Hydro Station of much contention was built in the 80’s and the subject of protests from New Zealand conservationists. To construct the station the company had to build a road, the most expensive per km in NZ, through the bush to drive up all the equipment up from the sea at Doubtful Sound to West Arm, leaving a gravelled single track route as the only land route to the sound.

Boarding a coach at the Power Station we wound our way through dense forests on this track, over Wilmots Pass (the highest point by road) and arrived at our start point of Deep Cove at the very eastern point of the Sound.

On arrival we stepped off the coach and were ushered to a massive open shelter to get kitted out. Hey, yeah there were a few sandflies, but really, what was all the fuss about guys?! A quick spray of repellent and we donned our wetsuits, spraydecks (things that stop the water getting in the boat) and packed our gear and food in waterproof bags. Then we all lugged each of the kayaks from their storage shed down to the water, being quite light it only took four of us.

Selecting our kayak at the water's edge we stuffed our bags and food in the two small lockerd at the front and back on the kayak. Then Mathiau advised we had to carry the camping equipment, sleeping and cooking stuff and the kit would be spread out evenly across the group. Each kayak had a massive middle locker and we duly were put in charge of the most important equipment, the tea, coffee and drinking stuff. Suddenly the kayak became extremely heavy to carry to the water, now taking six of us. Yvonne was now calculating how difficult it was going to be to get this kayak moving in the water. Yeah a few sandflies but looked like the repellent was working.

Finally we set off trying to keep in rhythm with our paddles but with little effect. Glenn at the back was in charge of the rudder, therefore steering the boat as long as we had propulsion, ie at least one of us paddling.

Straight from the off Glenn veered off across the water heading towards a waterfall, leaving Mathiau and the group gently paddling along the shoreline on the other side. Yvonne could hear Mathiau’s calls telling us to come back over. Reluctantly Glenn obeyed.

We paddled out of Deep Cove and found ourselves in the open water of Doubtful Sound with absolutely no one else around us. It was totally silent apart from the splashing of many small waterfalls.

The height of the rock walls were just as impressive as Milford Sound but softer with an abundance of greenery, trees hanging tenuously to vertical slabs of rock. It is common to have tree avalanches here.
Small waterfalls flowed off the rocks into the sea and we managed to kayak alongside them and collect mugs of cascading fresh water to drink.

The group needed a lunch spot so we paddled around to find a landing area, a small beach ideally, however, it was the height of high tide and everywhere was under water. Mattiau kept us paddling and Glenn remarked that very soon he would head a mutiny within the group if we didn’t get food soon. Finally, we made it to what was later to be our overnight camping area, a kayak width clearing between small trees and bushes. We negotiated the current, the branches and some of the slower kayakers and jumped out of the kayak, dragged it ashore, grabbed our food and hot footed to the camping area. Then…

HUNDREDS, I MEAN, HUNDREDS, REALLY, HUNDREDS of SANDFLIES descended on us. Twitching this way and that, running around, standing still, flailing arms and legs, NOTHING got rid of them. Yvonne desperate for the loo was guided to the long drop toilet dashing through the bush, hopeful of the sanctuary of the toilet cubicle. She threw the door open and… hundreds of sandflies in there too. And now an exposed bottom on which to feast!

Luckily we were ushered to the safety of a fully enclosed fly screened shelter and we all huddled in there eating lunch alongside remarking how crazy the sandflies were.

Lunch over we all dashed to the kayaks, quickly hopped in and made off to the sanctuary of the water.
A stiff breeze was up so we all got alongside to each other and rafted up and Mathiau produced a sail which we held at each of the four corners and the eight of us sailed quietly down the Sound to Argos Bay. A lovely serene moment. Of course this meant a hard paddle back into the wind for our return to camp.

We landed and prepared for sandfly battle. We both just stripped off our gear at the water's edge where there were fewer sand flies because of the breeze, quickly jumped into long trousers, socks over them, long sleeves, hoods up and then sprayed any exposed skin with the chemical spray. That should do the trick!

Our tent now needed putting up so Mathiau gave us Tree Creek, a spot of around 10 feet square in the bush, we erected the tent in record time and delved inside for refuge. Shattered we rolled out the bed mat and sleeping bag and prepared our clothes for tomorrow. We ran off down to the lake edge and dried our wet suits and gear in the breeze, which kept the flies at bay.

Dinner beckoned. A dash to the shelter where we discovered we had left our prepared dinner of chicken, chorizo and bean stew in the fridge in the campervan! Not to worry we had a handful of rice, six hot cross buns, a packet of French Onion soup - and a slightly mouldy carrot Mathiau found in the bottom of his bag and gave to us. Hmmm delightful dinner! At least we'd remembered the tin of rice pudding for desert.

The tiredness of kayaking kicked in and with no energy to fight off the sandflies we dashed to the tent and crossed our fingers we didn’t need the loo in the night. A quick spray of insect killer saw about 20 flies dropped to the floor, covering our sleeping bags. A sound night's sleep should be assured.