Sometimes, our timing is just impeccable. Not only does it seem that we've picked the year for a really bad (wet, cold, windy) summer here in NZ, but, we managed to book our three-day tramp on the Rakiura Track smack-dab in the middle of an "explosive cyclogenesis" otherwise known as a "weather bomb". As we'd already booked the ferry and campsites months in advance, there was nothing for it but to proceed with our plans.
The Rakiura Track is another NZ Great Walk. It's located on New Zealand's third island, Stewart Island, just a one hour ferry journey directly south of the South Island, across the Foveaux Strait. There's nothing between there and Antarctica. The attraction for us was the more isolated nature of this track as there are only three hundred people living on Stewart Island. It was also reputed to have lots of birdlife, including many kiwis. The island is located at latitude 47S which means it's in the middle of the "Roaring Forties", so, we didn't expect it to be tropical. However, we didn't expect it to be as miserable as it was. The incredibly heavy rain was being blown horizontally by very strong winds that just didn't let up. At least the worst of the winds hadn't arrived yet, so, the ferry crossing over was uneventful. We sat in the National Park Visitor Centre for a while hoping there might be a break. No such luck, so, we headed out into the weather to make our way to Maori Beach Campsite, about 9km distant, our first night's stop. We were somewhat sheltered from the rain and wind on the track. On arriving at the campsite, we had the full brunt of it again. Added to the mix was the beach sand now being fiercely whipped around as well. We made camp and spent an ok night despite being unable to use the "kitchen" shelter as it was directly open to the wind and our campstove wouldn't stay lit. A cold dinner and no hot drinks added to our fun.
The morning was no better with continual heavy rain, wind and low-lying cloud and mist that obscured any view. There didn't seem much point in continuing. We decided to abort the next two days of the tramp and just head back the way we had come. Maybe if we'd booked the hut instead of the campsite for that night we would have continued, but, we knew the hut was fully booked and there'd be no room for us. That meant we'd be relegated to a muddy, very wet campsite. It wasn't appealing. On the way back we at least managed to view and hear a colourful Kereru (native wood pigeon) and lots of Tui with their lovely song.
We arrived, back at our starting point, wet and cold. Luckily, we managed to change our ferry reservation. In hindsight, it may have been better to have stayed on the Island a while as the crossing was a horrific experience, not so much for us, but, all those around us. Is there such an affliction as "group seasickness"? I'd say yes! This crossing proved it.
The ferry was a smallish power cat and it was almost full. The winds were only about 35 knots but a 50+ knot storm had gone through the day before and the seas were definitely very ‘lumpy’ and confused. We were doing about 20 knots. It’s only a one hour crossing. Of the 100 passengers probably 80%!! were sick. I’ve never seen anything like it. Not just queasy, but, actually throwing up, a few were violently projectile. It was absolutely horrific to watch, children crying, a woman crawling on her knees trying to make it to the door, a man sitting by himself after everybody for two rows around him moved away to avoid the smell of his vomit dripping off the windowsills and seatbacks. Cabin crew, to their credit, were continually cleaning and handing out bags. The small bags weren't enough for the isolated man. Too late, they handed him a huge, black, bin liner to use.
Luckily we were in the minority and not afflicted, but, I really felt for those suffering. Early on in my sailing life I suffered from seasickness and know how completely debilitating it can be. On my first crossing of the English Channel, in a smallish sailboat, I threw up six times. Not fun. Now, many years later, I find I am only slightly queasy on the first day or two of a passage, thankfully. After feeling only a very slight queasiness on this trip, I'd say I'm cured of the worst effects, fingers crossed.
The helm was located right in the passenger area and the skipper, despite the utter chaos around and behind him, just concentrated and kept his eyes on the prize, masterfully steering around the waves. We only felt liftoff a couple of times. His was not a job I'd relish.
The Rakiura Track is another NZ Great Walk. It's located on New Zealand's third island, Stewart Island, just a one hour ferry journey directly south of the South Island, across the Foveaux Strait. There's nothing between there and Antarctica. The attraction for us was the more isolated nature of this track as there are only three hundred people living on Stewart Island. It was also reputed to have lots of birdlife, including many kiwis. The island is located at latitude 47S which means it's in the middle of the "Roaring Forties", so, we didn't expect it to be tropical. However, we didn't expect it to be as miserable as it was. The incredibly heavy rain was being blown horizontally by very strong winds that just didn't let up. At least the worst of the winds hadn't arrived yet, so, the ferry crossing over was uneventful. We sat in the National Park Visitor Centre for a while hoping there might be a break. No such luck, so, we headed out into the weather to make our way to Maori Beach Campsite, about 9km distant, our first night's stop. We were somewhat sheltered from the rain and wind on the track. On arriving at the campsite, we had the full brunt of it again. Added to the mix was the beach sand now being fiercely whipped around as well. We made camp and spent an ok night despite being unable to use the "kitchen" shelter as it was directly open to the wind and our campstove wouldn't stay lit. A cold dinner and no hot drinks added to our fun.
The morning was no better with continual heavy rain, wind and low-lying cloud and mist that obscured any view. There didn't seem much point in continuing. We decided to abort the next two days of the tramp and just head back the way we had come. Maybe if we'd booked the hut instead of the campsite for that night we would have continued, but, we knew the hut was fully booked and there'd be no room for us. That meant we'd be relegated to a muddy, very wet campsite. It wasn't appealing. On the way back we at least managed to view and hear a colourful Kereru (native wood pigeon) and lots of Tui with their lovely song.
We arrived, back at our starting point, wet and cold. Luckily, we managed to change our ferry reservation. In hindsight, it may have been better to have stayed on the Island a while as the crossing was a horrific experience, not so much for us, but, all those around us. Is there such an affliction as "group seasickness"? I'd say yes! This crossing proved it.
The ferry was a smallish power cat and it was almost full. The winds were only about 35 knots but a 50+ knot storm had gone through the day before and the seas were definitely very ‘lumpy’ and confused. We were doing about 20 knots. It’s only a one hour crossing. Of the 100 passengers probably 80%!! were sick. I’ve never seen anything like it. Not just queasy, but, actually throwing up, a few were violently projectile. It was absolutely horrific to watch, children crying, a woman crawling on her knees trying to make it to the door, a man sitting by himself after everybody for two rows around him moved away to avoid the smell of his vomit dripping off the windowsills and seatbacks. Cabin crew, to their credit, were continually cleaning and handing out bags. The small bags weren't enough for the isolated man. Too late, they handed him a huge, black, bin liner to use.
Luckily we were in the minority and not afflicted, but, I really felt for those suffering. Early on in my sailing life I suffered from seasickness and know how completely debilitating it can be. On my first crossing of the English Channel, in a smallish sailboat, I threw up six times. Not fun. Now, many years later, I find I am only slightly queasy on the first day or two of a passage, thankfully. After feeling only a very slight queasiness on this trip, I'd say I'm cured of the worst effects, fingers crossed.
The helm was located right in the passenger area and the skipper, despite the utter chaos around and behind him, just concentrated and kept his eyes on the prize, masterfully steering around the waves. We only felt liftoff a couple of times. His was not a job I'd relish.
We were glad to reach the mainland (South Island) and get back into our van. The rain and wind continued for a couple of days and confirmed for us that we'd made the right choice to return early. It was a very disappointing end to a much-anticipated trip.
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