Marlborough Sound (17/2 – 19/2)

The road out of Kaikoura started craggy and steep with deep ocean on one side and cloud covered mountains on the other. As soon as we turned inland from the coast the hills became much more gentle and then covered in a tuft grass. The hills looked as though they were literally cloaked in fine cloth and the vineyard we passed that was called Lions Back was not inappropriately named. Not many trees seemed to survive here as the winds were too strong, but further inland and the countryside became more lush and flat. Blenheim was the biggest town we had seen since our arrival in New Zealand and there were signs of the new found wealth of the New World wine growers everywhere. Newer cars, bigger houses, better shops and more restaurants.

 Surprisingly the vineyards were all on one long block of roads. The flattest hectares that the region had to offer, they spread very neatly along the road. All the names of the wines that we enjoyed at home were here. I was amazed that the vineyards which were quite small could produce world wide supplies but the ground obviously produced very good crops and their success was obvious. However we were hunting for one vineyard, our very favourite Cloudy Bay. 

 After sampling and purchasing supplies we headed north for Picton………slurp!

Picton meant that we were almost at the end of our trip of the South Island, sad as it seemed.  We have travelled over the whole island missing only one small part at the south and Stewart Island. We had one more stop to make, and that was the Abel Tasman National Park, but on the way a three night stop at Picton, which is a ferry port, so I had in my mind a vision of Dover or Folkestone.  However we arrived at this little town consisting of very little but the gateway through the Marlborough Sound to the North Island.  Having seen many photos of the Marlborough Sound it was not a complete surprise, but some of the areas either side were not expected at all. Our booking at the Yacht club was a disappointment as we seemed to have arrived when the work force of New Zealand were painting, decorating and renovating the property.  Never mind, we decided to crack open a bottle of Cloudy Bay and everything seemed a little better. 

 The next morning dawned overcast and promising of little better, so we thought that a trip out to the furthest point north on the South Island would be a challenge. And a challenge it was.  We travelled along the Queen Charlotte route which went past many beautiful bays with steep hillsides on three sides, the hills were covered in pine trees and the mist hung low through their branches.  We had to take a side road which threatened of danger and advised against using a hire car, so of course we ignored that.  The road became a gravel track one and a half cars wide, the track became a dirt track one car wide and at points that was even questionable, but we were so close to the end, or so we thought.  As we have found out distance over here bears no relation to time, and the twisting and turning eventually opened out to French Pass, which is a small settlement in a protected bay, one shop, which was shut, a small school, which was shut and two toilets, which thankfully were open.  The notice on the shop said that if they weren’t there we had to climb the driveway and bang on the door and someone would come down, so with lunch in mind we did just that.  A kindly lady appeared and opened up the shop for us and we felt duty bound to buy out of date biscuits, plastic cheese, a mammoth bag of crisps which were a little soggy and a couple of drinks. We sat on the beach front in the cold and wondered who on earth could make a living in this out of the way place. 

 We had a chat to a guy who was bailing out his rowing boat in readiness for a fishing trip with some people who had hired him for the afternoon.  We enquired as to his way of life and asked him what he did with himself all day, to which his response was, “Oh I don’t have time to do nothing, it’s a busy life out here, I fish, I keep an organic garden, yeah, there is never time to do nothing”.  I kid you not.  He set off on his launch, we watched him disappear into the mist and then the heavens opened and we decided to leave before the road got washed away.  French Pass is notorious for Current Point, where two seas meet and the waves can get very big and the undercurrents can make the largest of boats turn over.  It was very wild and windy, and despite its beauty I would not want to be stuck out there for too long.

 On the way back we decided to detour via Cloudy Bay, meaning the Cloudy Bay sea not the Cloudy Bay Vineyard. We could see the sun just beginning to come through the clouds and thought that was our best bet.

 What an address, Cloudy Bay Beach Road, Marlborough Sound. There were some stunning properties backing onto the bay but each one was behind trees so from the beach they could not be seen. Cloudy Bay was appropriately named, it was very big and with low cloud, but it was stunning. It went on for miles and miles and miles. There was not one solitary person on it. The waves rolled in from a beautiful blue sea and when the cloud lifted we could see the tip of the North Island. We clambered over the rocks to Monkey Bay Beach which was tiny and home to a cave which was no doubt home to countless numbers of bats.

 From Cloudy Bay we decided to go the scenic route home to Picton. This was another long and windy road above the small bays which made up this part of the country.  Pine forests lined most of the mountains and the indigenous trees struggled for space as the pine forests spread and spread.  As we rounded a corner we detected the smell of smoke, and sure enough a small distance further on we came across a forest fire which had just been extinguished by the local volunteer fire brigade.  I dreaded the thought that they were going to make us turn back, the plastic cheese was distinctly near being seen again, but no, in their casual way they waved us on, despite the smouldering hill sides.  This was no small fire, it really had taken hold over a number of hill sides but we would be “alrighty”!!

 Apparently the pine tree was introduced into New Zealand because it grows quickly, but unfortunately it grows three times the speed that it does in the Northern Hemisphere, and it seeds really easily.  The downside of this is that it pushes out the indigenous plants of the area and also it proves to be a very dangerous fire hazard.  Gradually the pines are therefore being stripped off the hills, either by being injected until they die and they just fall over, or they are being bulldozed down.  New indigenous trees are being planted back and the pine forests will be kept to managed farms.

 The following day the weather had improved dramatically and we rented the services of Graham, a Scotsman who had made New Zealand his home after he had sailed the Captain Cook route from Scotland across the world to Western Australia.  He had lived for 8 years in Australia and someone had asked him to sail their boat from Australia to New Zealand.  His two second delay before he agreed led him to finding Marlborough Sound and once seen he did not want to return to Australia, so sold up and moved here.

 He spent his life moving boats for people from country to country, flying back and forth on one way journeys by air or  and returning on boats that were owned by people who had no time to sail them from a to b but paid him for the privilege. What a job! His task the previous day was to give a sailing lesson to a young couple who had never sailed before, and who were planning on spending a few days on the Sound on their honeymoon, and they had hired this massive yacht!!. We wanted him to show us the Sound by boat and we intended to walk some of the Queen Charlotte Track. 

 Graham took us out to Bird Island which was a sanctuary with no four legged creatures.  The bird song was amazing as we climbed to the top of this island. As we reached the lookout at the top we could see right up the Sound one way and down to the boat on the quay the other way, where Graham was having a hard time staying awake whilst waiting for us in the sun.   The Sound looked beautiful this morning, the sea was blue, the mountains were tall and green and in the distance the islands were a misty grey.  A photographers delight, which was just as well as Martin was still intent to drag his camera, and his long lens that weighed four tons with him everywhere. 

 We then moved on and cruised to Ship Cove which was where Captain Cook first landed in New Zealand and set up camp with his sailors.  It was a tiny bay with a small memorial to this event, and nothing else, oh except the cleanest smartest loos ever!! The only way to see it was by boat and so not that many people came here.  It also marked the start of the Queen Charlotte Track, so people disembarked here and then started their 71 km walk.   Captain Cook apparently left pigs and sheep here when he came, along with his sick sailors and enough supplies to rest and recuperate.  On his return however he picked up his sailors but the sheep and pigs were soon eaten by the Maori people who weren’t used to such diet, there being no four legged animals in New Zealand at all.  Crackling off of a pig that doesn’t run away must be better than a Moa that can run like hell.

 We set off on a walk to Resolution Bay where Graham would be there to meet us.  It was a beautiful walk with glimpses of the sea and amazingly tall tree ferns, and bird life everywhere, robins that were very tame, bell birds that apparently call out a different tune for each family and many more unknown birds.

 We were picked up at the assigned point and then legged it, or rather motored it over to a lovely old restaurant which is just like an English pub for a few bevies and lunch and then a tour of the sound and all the bays that are hidden gems before heading home 7 hours and many tales later.