Australia: Whitsunday Islands in a Weekend

Trip Date: 06-08 September 2013

A few months ago, back in early September, I took off early and flew from Sydney to Hamilton Island, one of the entry airports to the Whitsunday Islands on the central Queensland Coast. I’d heard about the Whitsundays from a couple of friends who’d been there before and the more I looked into it, the more these pristine islands, world-famous for their sailing cruises, appealed to me.

The beautifully hazy Whitsunday Islands

If you’re traveling on a budget and have the time, you might consider flying in to Mackay a few hours to the south. But if you sign up for discount airlines’ emails, you can get affordable tickets right into either Proserpine airport at Airlie Beach (on the mainland) or into Hamilton Island airport on, well, Hamilton Island. When I booked my tickets Hamilton Island was my best entry point and it was still cheaper and more convenient to buy a round-trip ferry ticket to Airlie Beach on the mainland than it is to fly into Mackay and find your way up to Airlie Beach. Alternatively, if you have a good couple of hundred of dollars in your pocket, which I as a student do not, you can just stay out on Hamilton Island in one of their very swanky accommodations.

I got in on a Friday afternoon while the flight was smooth most of the way up, the winds coming in off the Pacific made for a very bumpy and tipsy landing – one of the worst I’ve experienced in a while! With that said, the views coming in to Hamilton Island are stunning. Beautiful blue water, dozens of lush green islands, and stunningly white sandy beaches. It makes landing on a short island runway all worth it!

The weather wasn’t all that great and I began preparing myself for a less-than-relaxing sunny beach weekend than I expected. While waiting for the ferry to take us to the mainland, the clouds came in dark and ominous and at times spitted a bit of rain. Back in February of 2013, a massive storm struck the islands causing widespread damage that was still visible in September as some boats were still washed up onto breakwaters, shoals, and jetties – but of course none of the tourism ads show that but rather want you to think it is always sunny here (something the girls in the row in front of me on the plane clearly had in mind). It all just depends on what you get and you should just prepare yourself to have fun no matter what.

And that was my plan. I’d booked a bed at the YHA in Airlie Beach and planned on doing some beach-visiting, snorkeling, and bushwalking while I was here over the next day and a half. Like all other YHA hostels I’ve stayed at, the one in Airlie was fine for accommodation, though maybe a bit more utilitarian. It was quiet when you wanted it to be and comfortable, though, so I had no problems with it. It is a backpackers’ accommodation though, and one thing you can’t get away from is the constant pressure to socialise with anyone else who happens to be staying in your room. I’d booked a bed in a dorm and there was a nice guy from Sweden in there who immediately started chatting me up. I was fine with that for a few minutes, but the incessant need for him to keep asking me questions about where I was from, why I was in Airlie Beach, and what I was going to do there started driving me crazy. After a series of me giving him one word responses, I decided I needed a sign that reads, “The only reason I’m staying here is because it’s cheap,” especially if I keep staying at hostels rather than the more expensive beach-side resorts.

The cormorant welcoming committee in Airlie Beach

I really wasn’t trying to be antisocial, but I had already decided on the flight in that this was going to be a nice me-weekend. Unfortunately, Airlie Beach is just not a place for that as backpackers are literally everywhere and the atmosphere in nearly all of the local pubs and bars plays testament to the party scene Airlie is so well known for.

I decided on a pub for a burger desert – it doesn’t really matter which pub; they’re all crap and went back to the hostel to test out my new LifeProof waterproof iPhone case. Initially, I’d wanted to invest in a GoPro camera for all of the snorkeling I was going to be doing over the next few months, but they’re not cheap and instead I decided an iPhone case was the next best thing. Customer reviews did nothing but rave about LifeProof cases and for $70, I figured I’d take the risk and after unpackaging the case in the hostel and submerging it in a rubbish bin full of water (without the phone in it, of course) for half an hour, the inside proved to be perfectly dry. I was happy with it enough to give it a go out on the reefs.

Early the next morning, me and a few other backpackers (I hate using that term for myself, but it’s just easier) were picked up from the YHA by Ocean Rafting, a company I found through Trip Advisor which is eco-certified and boasts their pro-environmentalism vehemently on their website. Considering the Earth is continuously warming and ocean acidification an ever increasing problem, I figured it would be responsible of me to go out to the islands and reefs with a company that so clearly cares about the environment they take tourists to. Ocean Rafting also was appealing because their boats only take ~25 people on them so you get a much more personalised and intimate tour of the Whitsundays. Finally, Ocean Rafting has a sister company in Cape Tribulation (Ocean Safari) and you can get a small discount if you book a combo trip with both companies and since I’d be going up to Cape Tribulation in October when my family visited, I figured I might as well save a few bucks!

We were some of the first ones out to the dock where our boat, Thunderstruck, was moored and it took a while for everyone else on our tour to show up, but soon we were all squeezed into our wetsuits – a new experience for me – and stepping on to Thunderstruck which was an open-topped speedboat with large pontoons on either side. We could either sit on the benches or on the pontoons and our van-driver that morning said today was a perfect day to ride up front or on the pontoons since the swell coming in off the ocean was still pretty big and the boat was designed for wavy conditions. I had no intention of missing out on any bit of adventure, so I rocked on up to the front row of benches with a truly Irish couple – the guy had a penchant for saying, “Fuck” and “Shit” every other word – which got to be a bit much by the end of the day, but they were good company.

The sun was not out in full brightness yet, but I could tell that the rough weather experienced on my arrival the night before was clearing up and by the time we picked another few people up from Daydream Island and passed through the Molle Islands, the clouds had disappeared and it was obviously going to be a great day! There are dozens of islands in the Whitsundays and when big ocean swells hit them, the waves are refracted around the islands, funneled between narrow passages, and come at you from every which way, which made our boat ride out to the channel between Hook and Whitsunday Islands incredibly bouncy and fun! People were screaming as the prow of the boat lifted up over a wave and came crashing down into the trough on the other side. Our morning driver was right – the choppier the water, the better the ride is on these boats!

We passed through the narrow channel between Hook and Whitsunday Islands and turned right to follow the shoreline of Whitsunday Island which rose up from the sea in steep, bare granite cliffs. It wasn’t before long and the boat slowed down on the opposite side of a skinny peninsula that separated us from the famous Whitehaven Inlet and beach. We hiked up to the ridgeline of this skinny peninsula barefoot and in our wetsuits through the subtropical heat and humidity to a vantage point from which you can see Whitehaven Beach in all of its pristine, white, sandy glory!

Beautiful turquoise waters and white sand of Whitehaven Beach and Whitsunday Inlet.

To the local Aboriginal people, the Whitsunday Islands are sacred and focus heavily in their Dreamtime stories and of particular significance are the literally thousands of stingrays that call the estuary home. The estuary itself is not terribly long but it is quite wide and the stream flowing out to the ocean is clearly marked from the white sandy deposits by its bold, brilliant, turquoise colour. From the viewing platform, you see not only the stunning estuary, but you look down over bright white sand spits built by longshore currents transporting sand down from Whitehaven beach which stretches as far as you can see in front of you. Geologically, the sand on Whitehaven Beach has been transported hundreds of kilometers along the Australian coast and the purest quartz sand grains are eventually deposited along the beach as coastal currents eddy between the Islands. The fine silica sand is so pure that even on the hottest days it is quite cool to the touch because quartz just does not retain heat well. It is easy to see why the Whitsunday Islands are designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We didn’t linger long at the viewing platform, abandoning it for lunch down on the white sand spit at the mouth of the estuary. The great thing about the tour with Ocean Rafting is that they are the only company allowed to anchor in the estuary itself. No other company is allowed to anchor here and no one is allowed to remove anything from the beach or any of the islands due in part to their listing as a World Heritage site, but also due to their sacred significance to the local Aboriginal people. Only one organization has legally been allowed to remove sand from the beach. Back when NASA was building the Hubble Telescope, they needed the purest silica in the world to melt and form the telescope’s lenses, as any impurity at all would ruin the telescope’s capabilities of photographing space’s wonders.

We spent about an hour on the white sand spit trying to keep our lunches from being stolen by seagulls. No one really talked and while I think it was because of the sun and hunger, I’d like to believe it was because everyone was in awe at this magnificent gem of natural beauty!

After lunch, our boat took us back north toward Hook Island and through what the captain and tour guide referred to as the Devil’s Washing Machine – an area of water where the swirling eddies converge together and the ocean’s wave double in height! Sitting on the side pontoon of the boat, with nothing to hold on to but a small canvas strap between my legs, this proved to be much bouncier of a ride than if I’d had a seat in the boat but it was amazingly fun feeling your body leave your seat as the boat falls back to the water after running off the crest of a wave!

Soon we arrived at the first of our two snorkeling sites on the east side of Hook Island. This was the first time I was going to have willingly jumped into the ocean since I went snorkeling in New Zealand’s Bay of Islands, which was the beginning of conquering my personal and very irrational fear of the ocean! I knew that putting myself in with a group of people who weren’t afraid to just jump in the ocean would pressure me into not being a chicken, but then while the captain was explaining what we’d be seeing at this site, his deckhand pulled a jar of fish food out and started throwing the little kernels of food into the water. As he did this schools of fish too many to count would swarm the water where the food landed – mostly schools of a blue-yellow fish (NOT SURE WHAT IT’S CALLED??).  But what worried me the most was the much larger Maori wrasse – massive fish that can grow to six feet in length with large beak-like mouths. Supposedly, Maori wrasse are harmless, but their size was intimidating enough for me to hold back on the boat much longer than everyone else, petrified to jump in in case one of these massive fish were to sneak up on me!

But money talks, and I reminded myself that I’d bought the waterproof iPhone case for this purpose and that I needed to put it to good use. I slipped on my flippers, tucked my camera into the sleeve of my wetsuit, donned my mask and snorkel and flopped off the side of the boat. I was in, and it was amazing! Whereas we saw heaps of sea urchins and seaweed amongst the rocks snorkeling in New Zealand, there was nothing but fish and coral here! Huge stacks of all of the coral you’ve seen in movies, books, and pictures and just as many types I’d never seen or heard of before! There were loads of fish – mostly the ones schooling around the food but also rainbow parrotfish, big fish, small fish, and yes, even the great Maori wrasse which I saw sneaking up on me from behind, though turned away before getting too close to me!

We were in the water for about an hour before being called back to the boat, which didn’t take me long as I didn’t dare venture too far away, but took some of the more intrepid explorers a wee bit longer. Because of the windy weather that hit the islands on the previous few days, sand had been stirred up all around the islands that made visibility low and the captain thought we might have better luck a few bays further around the island. We made the short trip to the next bay and spent another hour or so exploring the corals here. Indeed visibility was better and I was a bit more adventurous and tried seeing as much of the reef as I could. It was truly like being in an underwater wonder world and even I was amazed at how quickly my inhibitions melted away under the spell of the reef.

Parrotfish on the reef!

I think everyone should be able to experience a tropical reef up close at some point in their life  - though the scientist in me cautions anyone who does to be very conscious about what company they use to get to the reefs. Climate change, warming ocean waters, and acidifying oceans are killing reefs all around the world. They are some of the most delicate and fragile ecosystems in the world yet are crucial for the survival and sustenance of all the oceans.

It was getting late and we boarded the boat one last time before finishing our circumnavigation of Hook Island, past the old resort of Hayman Island, and back toward Airlie Beach. The seas were still rough but I wasn’t upset I once more found myself riding the pontoon on the way back for one of the wettest rides on the boat!

There’s nothing to report from my second night in Airlie Beach because it’s a dive and not worth wasting words on.

I woke up early on my third day in the Whitsundays and walked back to the ferry docks to catch the first ferry back to Hamilton Island. My flight back to Sydney wasn’t until later in the afternoon, but I wanted to do a bit of bushwalking and it looked like there were some great trails on Hamilton Island. Indeed, once you get past all of the resort villas, bungalows, hotels, condos, and conference centres, you find a track that leads up to the rocky lookout called, Passage Peak.

It only took about an hour to reach the peak, though unless you’re an avid hiker, I’d plan on it taking more than that. The weather was hot, but the sky was perfectly clear for looking out over the islands from one of the highest points in the islands! Fluffy white clouds marched through the sky in endless precession, casting shadows on the clear turquoise water. I had a nice chat with some other bushwalkers at the top and they pointed out some pairs of whales they’d seen while I told them about Whitehaven Beach which you could see over the lush green slopes of neighboring Whitsunday Island. Though it was Sunday in Australia, it was a Michigan Game-Day Saturday back home, and in true fashion, I proudly wore my UM Jersey, which I also had to explain to the other hikers, but they generously took photos of me, saving me from yet more selfies. Eventually they left and thus left me to one of the most spectacular viewing points of natural beauty I’ve ever seen!

Going Blue during a bushwalk to the summit of Passage Peak on
Hamilton Island. I believe we beat Indiana that day!

I had plenty of time to walk back to the airport, so I took my time with it singing Michigan Songs from Glee Club on the way down since I think it was the weekend we beat Indiana. I called and chatted to my sister over lunch and then made my way to the airport which is conveniently within walking distance from the marina and after not too long was back in the air headed home to Sydney. 

My weekend in the Whitsunday Islands reaffirmed what I’ve learned so often in Australia: it does not take much time or money to have amazing experiences in beautiful locations. I was away for less than three days, yet I have some of the most vivid memories of nature, landscapes, the ocean, and animals I’ve ever had. If you get the chance, go! To the Whitsundays, absolutely, but also to anywhere you’ve been wanting to see!
 

Australia: Tasmania's Lyell Highway from Hobart to Strahan

Travel Date: 24 April 2013

Back in early April, while everyone in Australia was taking their Easter Friday and Monday off of work, I was grading assignments and in my lab working, being the diligent PhD student I am! But I needed a getaway, and part of my excuse for working over Easter was that I'd previously purchased a round-trip flight down to Tasmania for five days in late April.

I needed a break. After four solid months of slogging through lab work, research, writing, reading, and teaching, I needed to step off the Sydney merry-go-round or go insane. Having moved to Glasgow in winter of 2012, then to Sydney in August, I pretty much had a year of winter immediately followed by the Australian summer with no change of seasons to speak of and definitely no Fall, which is my favourite. Sure I got a little taste of Michigan Football last September-November, but no pumpkin spiced lattes, no leaves changing colour, nothing. But the nice thing about Tasmania is that it is as far south  from the Equator as Michigan and Vermont are north of it, and April in Tassie would be the same as October in the northern hemisphere. In other words, it was Fall!

Fall colours along the River Derwent in New Norfolk

I arrived in Hobart, Tasmania's capital, at 8am, picked up my rental car - a wee Suzuki Swift which I really ended up liking! - and started off down the Lyell Highway. My goal was to get to the small town of Strahan on the western coast of Tasmania, but I also wanted to see as much as possible. My initial plan was to drive north toward Launceston and then west to Cradle Mountain before arriving late in Strahan, but took the advice of locals on the r/tasmania subreddit who thought I might be better off taking the shorter route and actually experience it. They were right.

My first stop wasn't planned until Lake St. Clair in the Tasmanian central highlands, but after picking up coffee in New Norfolk - a town originally set up as a new homebase for Australian convicts stationed out at the soon to be abandoned Norfolk Island camp in the Tasman Sea - I crossed the River Derwent and had to stop because the trees along the riverbanks were on fire with autumnal colours! It was beautiful! From what I'd heard about Tasmania and the Tasmanian culture of environmental awareness and power of purchasing locally, I imagined it to be much like Vermont in the US. The similarities, I would find out, were uncanny, and the trees along the river were just the beginning. I do have to say, though, that this is the only time I've been happy seeing invasive species; you see, no native Australian trees change colour with the seasons, only the imported species from Europe and North America!

Continuing along through pastoral farming/grazing communities, the Lyell Hwy suddenly started its ascent into mountains and the roads became narrow, steep, and windy (and windy)! I passed some of Tasmania's many hydroelectric facilities in Terraleah and the road then spit me out onto the highland plateaus just east of the central Highlands.

Tasmania's central highlands and the entire southwest quadrant of the island are all preserved as National Parks, most of which make up the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Area, and while you can access many places in those parks, the majority of it is left as a natural wilderness for your experienced outdoor exploration! The famed Overland Track is one of the World's best wilderness walks right through Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park,and something I hope to do before leaving Australia.

My first planned stop, though, was at an artistic site just east of Lake St. Clair called The Wall in the Wilderness. I'd heard about this artist who is carving out scenes from Tasmania's varied industrial, cultural, and environmental histories in huge panels of wood. In my mind I imagined it to be like a huge detailed collage of various moments that I could learn a lot from. Surely I wouldn't be disappointed. But when I walked up to the door there was a big sign saying something along the lines of:

No cameras allowed! Personal photographs do not capture the essence of my artistic vision when taken in the wrong light. When I have people throwing punches at me for not allowing them to take photos it gives me the right ban all cameras. My art is self-funded and I will decide what I will and will not allow.

Well, that kind of made me stop in my tracks and think, "Wow, what an ass." But not knowing what this guy has gone through, I returned my camera to my car. I thought the $10 admission fee was a bit steep, especially with no student discounts, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt. The building was cold and dimly-lit and in the central hall was the Wall. It was impressive to look at. Dozens of wooden panels of Huon Pine were hanging from a central wall, the majority of which had images of Tassie history hand-carved into the wood: hydro power, convict history, the extinct Tasmanian tiger, and natural scenery - and those that weren't yet carved had the pencil marks on them showing what they would eventually be. It was neat, and the artist is obviously a talented wood-carver, but was it comparable to Michelangelo's painting of the Sistene Chapel (as the Wall's website claims)? No, not in the least bit! Maybe it was the sour taste left in my mouth from not being able to take my camera in, or the tone with which that message was conveyed, but I thought the wall was impressive in size only. There were no information placards describing what I was looking at, but I could buy a book for another $20 to learn about each panel. Essentially, I thought this piece of art was a waste of time and money and I do not encourage anyone to visit. You'll just be nickel-and-dimed out of $10 and with nothing given in return. It's not educational and not all that spectacular when all is said and done. And even though I paid to see the Wall - thus paying for the future work on the wall - I didn't even get to take a photo of it. Crap. Don't go.

Sitting on the ferry pier at Lake St. Clair

It was still cloudy out from morning rain showers, but I drove on to the entrance of  Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park at the southern end of Lake St. Clair, which fills a glacially carved basin and is Australia's deepest lake. I went to buy a pass from the Visitor Centre, hoping I could use it at all National Parks in Tasmania I'd go to over the next few days, but it turns out that the passes can't be transferred between cars and if you go to Cradle Mountain, you have to pay a separate, exorbitant, entrance fee - so I settled on the day-pass and went to inquire about the Lake's ferry service. Being on the south side of the park, This is the ending point for anyone doing the Overland Track and a ferry service operates between both ends of the lake taking OT walkers and day-hikers to various piers. Not having enough time to do a four-hour walk, I was just hoping to get into the wilderness via the ferry, but after inquiring about it, I found out I was 10 minutes late and that no more ferries were scheduled for the day (damn Wall in the Wilderness!). So I walked down to the lake's edge for a bit taking in the staggering mountain scenery that was constantly peeking in and out of low-hanging grey clouds. Even on a bleak afternoon it was beautiful.

Back in the car the clouds started clearing, changing to big puffy white clouds, and the sun came out! Not much further down the Lyell Hwy I started seeing huge mountain after huge mountain loom into view from road as it twisted between them and the geologist inside me took over and every time I saw something new I'd let out an, "Oh my Gaaaawwwwddd!!!!! Woooowwwwww!!!!" The National Parks of Tasmania really earn their status as being stunning and beautiful! With stops at the Great Divide and Happy Valley overlook, I parked down at the Franklin River Nature Walk.

The Franklin River rose to international recognition in the 1980s when environmentalists started protesting plans to dam the Franklin River downstream from here. It is one of Tasmania's last wilderness rivers and the environmentalists were fighting to keep it that way. The hydro company eventually lost the battle and a new era of environmentally-conscious Australians rose to national political prominence. Furthermore, a new importance was placed on wild areas of Tasmania with an effort to keep them wild and untouched as much as possible. The walk was short but goes right along the banks of the Franklin and Surprise Rivers and weaves between massive pine and gum trees - some of which are the tallest species of trees in the world!

I'm not sure what the Highway is like during peak holiday season, but the Lyell was essentially empty for my entire drive. The afternoon was getting on and I'd decided that I needed to get to Strahan before sunset so I could watch the sun go down over the Southern Ocean - which you can't really do from too many places in the world! In my rush, I almost missed one of the best views of Tasmania: Donaghy Wilderness Overlook. I actually drove past the parking lot, but turned around. Two backpackers from the UK were just finishing and when I asked if the 30-minute walk was worth it, they said, "We've been traveling around Australia for two months and this is by far the best overlook we've seen!" I was sold, parked my car, and started walking.

I was not disappointed. If you take it quickly, it only takes about 20 minutes and the walk takes you to a little knob from which you get a 360-degree view of the surrounding mountains, valleys, rivers, and the ever-impressive Frenchmans Cap - a unmistakably unique mountain crag off in the distance which can be seen from miles and miles around! There was no one else out on the overlook and I had the place to myself under warm blue skies and a sun just beginning to dip below the mountains to the west. I grabbed a bunch of photos and sped back to my car. I only had about 2 hours left before sundown and it was more than 2 hours to get to Strahan.

Sunset in western Tasmania taken from the shores of Lake Burbury

I sped down the road, probably faster than I should have been going, trying to make it to Ocean Beach in Strahan before the sun hit the horizon, but I kept coming across beautiful scenery! I next had to take a quick minute at Lake Burbury because the sun's rays were shining from behind the tips of the nearby mountain peaks, casting glorious rays over the land, and I am certain I got some of the best sunset photos I will ever take in my life! And then the drive into Queenstown - famous for its regional mining operations which have all but stripped the hillsides of any and all vegetation and sediment cover. The road coming down out of the mountains to Queenstown was also beautiful, but in an industrial and destructive way. At least Mt. Owen seemed to still be forested and one massive waterfall was cascading down the hillsides.

I got to Strahan with about 15 minutes to spare, drove around the town and out to Ocean Beach where I missed the sun actually setting, though the sky was still beautifully lit up with pinks, oranges, reds, and the blues of the night. I stepped out and down to the beach where I took my shoes and socks off, rolled up my jeans and walked down to the water's edge, finally allowing myself to breathe and take in the dusky views up and down the beach - Tasmania's longest. I picked up a few pebbles as keepsakes as the ocean waters washed over my feet because after all, it's not all that often you can say you've stuck your toes in the Southern Ocean. Tasmania and the southern tips of South Africa, Argentina, Chile, and New Zealand are really the only places you can do this (and Antarctica, too), and it's quite a surreal experience when you consider its vastness.

Happy with everything I was able to accomplish along the Lyell Highway, I drove back to Strahan in the dark, found my hostel - the Strahan Backpackers YHA - and got great advice from the owner for delicious fish 'n' chips, Schwoch's, in the town's centre. A delicious ending to a busy, productive, and beautiful day!

New Zealand: Bay of Islands

Travel Date: 04-05 January 2013

My last post from my trip to New Zealand over New Year's this year picks back up on the same day I visited the Waitangi Treaty Grounds near Paihia. Back in Paihia, however, I was about to embark on one of the coolest experiences of my travels. Traveling alone is not always the most fun, I don't think. As much fun as it is to meet new people and fellow travelers, it often feels like a broken record because you're always telling people the same things: where you're from, what you do, where you've traveled, what you've done on those travels - and then it starts all over. I'd much rather have someone to travel with, either friends or family, to be able to have an ever-continuing travel narrative that carries through the rest of the journeys. With that in mind, I booked myself a room in a YHA. But this was no ordinary YHA because Paihia is the gateway to the Bay of Islands which is no ordinary travel destination!

The Bay of Islands is a fantastic region on North Island, New Zealand and as its name suggests it is a bay - a picturesque beautiful bay - with islands in it - hundred of islands!! I'd been seeing travel posters for New Zealand advertising the Bay of Islands (BoI from now on) and the posters of course make the green islands stand out starkly from the crystal clear turquoise waters of the bay and the cobalt blue skies and little white yachts and tiny yellow kayaks appear to be floating on air. Obviously this photo was used to make it seem like the idyllic place to holiday, but could the BoI really be this perfect? I found out that the answer was and emphatic, "YES!"

The Rock houseboat/hostel I stayed on while touring the Bay of Islands
on New Zealand's North Island

I said the YHA I booked was no ordinary hostel and that is because this YHA is in fact a car-ferry turned houseboat capable of hosting 36 passenters. Rock, The Boat was an ideal way to spend 24 hours on the water - and as the New Zealand Lonely Planet guide says, you can't truly see the BoI unless you're on the bay! The way I justified was this: if I'd booked a hostel, eaten out or even cooked my own food, rented a kayak for a few hours, chartered a fishing guide, and booked a snorkeling outing, I would have spent well over NZ$300! By booking a room on The Rock I could get all of this for a measly NZ$188! Sometimes I think touristy packages like this are overhyped, but I decided to go for it and I was not disappointed in the least bit!

I parked my car at the Paihia YHA (for the land-lubber backpackers) - for free, which they let me do since I'd be spending my money with YHA anyway - and headed down to the dock where I waited in line with a hoard of girls speaking German, a couple of couples, and one chatty South Korean girl from Auckland who was taking the weekend off. No one was really interacting with anyone outside their group, which didn't really bother me; I figured if people weren't social on the boat at least I'd get some relaxation. We were shortly greeted by two guys in their mid-20s who introduced themselves as part of the crew. They put our bags in a boat, gave us some life-jackets and brought us out to a two-level brown houseboat in the harbour. Being an old car-ferry, the boat's back was the former ramp and was kept in the down position as a kind of landing-deck. There was a rack of kayaks on the back and a spiral stairway up to the back deck on the second floor with a New Zealand flag attached. The inside of the boat was amazingly cozy! On the back was a small ring of benches surrounding a wood-burning stove. A large bar occupied the middle of the boat and was where drinks were served and the crew cooked the meals. Bathrooms were small and off to the side and the rest of the main floor was lined by various seats and tables. There was a piano, a foosball table, racks of magazines, and the open rafters were decorated with various antique nautical instruments, tackles, lures, fish, bottles, and so on! The upstairs was where all the rooms were. The four crew members had their rooms up near the front of the boat and the guest rooms took up the rest of the space and were either double rooms, or bunk rooms with six-beds each. The boat could host 36 passengers at once, but luckily there were only 13 of us so it was much more relaxed and much less crowded!

As our captain started bringing us out to the centre of the bay, the crew started the daunting task of making sure everyone knew everyone else and felt part of the family! To get things started they had a wooden duck on a small raft tied to the houseboat with a piece of string. Each of us were then to take turns, introduce ourself, say one unique thing about us, and then take a turn shooting at the duck with a paintball gun! Whichever guy and girl shot the duck first received a free drink from the bar. So it was pretty quickly that we all met each other, started sharing stories, and realised how bad of shots we were with a paintball gun! The crew was amazing at their jobs. I can't imagine the cruise being as fun as it was if the crew had just let us do our own things, but they encouraged us to socialise and though we didn't really get to know each other that much better by the end than we were at the beginning, that first activity broke down those initial barriers and at least got us talking to each other and having a laugh.

The Purerua Peninsula making the northern boundary of the Bay of Islands

The weather was perfect and the water nearly perfectly flat on the bay, just like in the photos! The distant hills were beautifully green and the water sparkling blue. We all socialised a bit on the boat watching other watercraft lazily wander around the bay until we got to our resting spot for the night, a small bay off of one of the mainland peninsulas which twist their way into the BoI. We dropped anchor and were told we would be fishing for our dinner. One of the crew cut up a fish for bait and gave each of us some fishing rods and we all stood off the back, or on the adjoining small boat and tried our luck. I wasn't lucky at all, but one of the guys caught two or three red snappers which we were able to keep and another crew member started to prepare it for dinner. After a few drinks and more chatting while waiting for the rest of dinner to be prepared we had one of the best meals I've had on a boat: steaks, fish, salads, potatoes, and beer. Delicious!

It started to rain a little bit, but the few clouds quickly passed and then the stars came out. There was no moon, so it was especially dark, and I couldn't believe the number of stars I could see! With the sun down and the stars out, our next activity began. We split into two groups and were going to do some nighttime kayaking around the bay which was special because at night, especially on clear nights, you could see bioluminescent algae phosphoresce and light up as you disturbed them by paddling through the water. In the eddies of water spinning around the kayak paddles little specks of light would twinkle and flash and then die out as water returned to a calm normal. If your eyes were keen, you could also see fish swimming around beneath your kayak by the traces of light left behind in its wake as it swam through and stirred up the algae. I was a little nervous I'd see a big fish (or shark) swim under me, but it seemed to mostly be smaller fish. We paddled around a bit and could even just lay back on the flat water looking up at the stars! Off in the distance the lights on the boat were all turned off and a warm glow was coming from the wood burner and a number of candles and Christmas lights. It was a beautiful scene that you can only take my word for because I didn't feel the need to potentially drop my camera or phone in the ocean.

Back on the boat some folks went to bed, but I stayed up and chatted with the Germans and a few others for a while over a few beers, but mostly tea. They were all such a friendly bunch, and I have to give it to the groups of friends and couples on the boat, they all did a great job of branching out and chatting with those of us traveling alone. I can only imagine how awkward it could have been if no one was as friendly or social as they (we) were. But soon we were all off to bed.

Morning sunrise over Electric Bay

It's amazing how well you can find sleep on a boat gently rocking under the influence of little waves. Morning came early though and I was one of maybe five people up before sunrise, which is very unusual for me, but I am so glad I did. The sunrise was just as beautiful as the sunset and the morning air was so calm and quiet it was nice to peacefully be able to take it all in. A few of the other guests who were up early then decided it was time for a morning swim and jumped in and swam around the boat. Now, I should probably explain here that I have an almost crippling fear of being in the ocean. I don't know what it is, really, but I just am afraid to swim in it. I tell people that my brother made me watch Jaws at a very impressionable age and it just stuck with me that if I went in the ocean I would be eaten by a shark. Being on a boat is fine, as is wading or paddling near the shore, but fully submerging myself in the water not near any shore is beyond my limits. Part of being on this trip, though, was going to be testing those limits and I have to admit that the morning swim looked like an ideal way to do it. So before long, and without thinking, I jumped in. The water was cold and it took my breath away, along with the crippling anxiety that came along with the fact that I was in the ocean, not knowing what sort of sea-monsters were swimming beneath my feet! But I was in and did a nice lap around the boat before calling it good and pulling myself out, wrapping myself in a towel, and having my morning coffee. It was exhilirating (yes, even that simple morning swim) and I was ready to take on the rest of the water tasks that lay ahead of us in the day. 

After breakfast, the captain started the boat, brought us past Motukaori and Motuarohia Islands and dropped anchor in Mangahawea Bay off Moturua Island. It was time for the next water-based adventure: snorkeling. The crew pointed to where we'd be going and I saw nothing but two large rocks sticking out of the water (Rangiatea and Motuoi Islands) and some shoals of smaller rocks between them. It did not look safe to me and my anxiety crept back in, starkly contrasting with the excitement of everyone around me. Even the Korean girl, who didn't know how to swim, was excited, tightly strapped in to her personal flotation device! It's amazing what a little bit of peer pressure can do, because not wanting to be the only person to no go snorkeling and not wanting to show how scared I was (which was dumb because I told them all how terrified I was!), I didn't have a choice but to grab some flippers, a snorkel, and mask and jump in with the rest. Again the cold water got me, but my adrenaline helped push me through as we all flipped our way over to the rocks. We had two goals here. Firstly, we were there to explore the rocks and snorkel around. But secondly, we were also there to catch kina (sea urchins) for a snack later on. I now fully admit that I had an amazing time snorkeling! It was so cool to just dive around watching all the fish swim around, some in large schools like the blue maomao and some solitary ones like the sandager's wrasse (easily as big as two feet in length!) or the small demoiselle. The blue maomao were really extraordinary because you could just swim into their small schools as they congregated by the rocks. The other swimmers were either exploring or trying their hand at diving down to the rocks and picking up the kina, putting them in a small net the snorkeling crewmember had with us. I had a great time and was determined not to be in the first group of people to head back to the boat, though I also have to admit I never quite got the hang of breathing normally through a snorkel. It's such a weird feeling to breathe through a tube and I kept taking short quick gasps of air which didn't do me much good when I wanted to dive down. But soon the chilly water got to me and hoisted myself onto the small zodiac that took me back to the houseboat.

On top of Waewaetorea Island

With snorkeling done for the day we all dried off and had our packed lunches in the sun as the boat went around some more islands and anchored in the little harbour between Okahu and Waewaetorea Islands. We all hopped back into the kayaks and paddled toward the shore of Waewaetorea Island where some of us took a little walk to the top of the tall grassy hill to get a better view of the BoI, and really, we could not have asked for more perfect weather! It was warm, sunny, and only a few whisps of clouds in the sky! Back down at the beach we played some beach games with a cricket set and rugby ball - cricket I was surprisingly good at, but not the game we played with the rugby ball. But then we were told the afternoon was getting on and we needed to start heading back to Paihia Harbour so they could take the next group of passengers out. So we kayaked back to the houseboat, and before we pulled up anchor for the last time I took one more dive and swim off the back as a personal way of saying to myself, "See? You can do this!"

The cruise back to Paihia was very relaxed. Everyone just chilled out on the sofas and seats throughout the boat chatting and having a beer or two. I joined in as well, but kept being distracted by the beautiful surroundings and landscapes. There was even a large regatta in the Bay that day and a whole string of yachts were sailing around, reminding me of the Boxing Day race that started in Sydney just a few weeks earlier. We even were treated to some of the kina we caught, which were cracked open by one of the crew members. We learned that kina reproduce asexually so have both the eggs and sperm inside their bodies and that the eggs (or was it the sperm?) was considered a delicacy in many restaurants and that you could pay upwards of $50 for a small appetiser of the stuff! I don't think any of us were too keen on trying it, but the Korean girl, who turned out to be quite adventurous, volunteered to go first and we watched as the kina eggs was dabbled on her hand in a sticky yellow goo, and then she quickly stuck out her tongue and licked it clean! It was gross, but sure enough, all of us were trying it before long. Definitely not something I'd pay $50 for by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn't all bad - kind of a salty, buttery, goo... 

Bay of Islands regatta in front of the Purerua Peninsula

But soon enough, we were anchored back in Paihia Harbour and with an unceremonious farewell to the fellow passengers, we were transported back to the docks and then each of us were on our own ways. It was fitting because the reality was that most of us probably wouldn't see each other again, but since there were no false pretenses (for example everyone saying, "let's keep in touch!") there were no hard feelings. We'd all gotten exactly what we expected: a fun night out on the Bay of Islands with friendly people making personal memories of fun mini-adventures!

Lonely Planet's New Zealand guide says that the Bay of Islands is overhyped, which compared to the rest of New Zealand might be the case (sure, it's no huge volcano, powerful earthquake, or glacial landscape), but if you want water-based activities, it's the bee's knees and I recommend to anyone who wants to get the most for their money, go on The Rock!! If you have the right social disposition, you will not regret it!

New Zealand: Cape Maria Van Diemen

Date Traveled: 03 January 2013

This is the day I almost died...twice.

Fog had rolled in to Tapotupotu Bay overnight and while it was light in the morning when I first woke, it was not too visible. I was at least refreshed from a good night's sleep, listening to the constant crash of the waves on the beach. I grabbed my camera and tried taking a few shots of the beach before packing everything up into my car, and then I drove back out and up to the parking lot at Cape Reinga, which was easier said than done because the thick fog decreased my visibility to maybe 10m in front of the car!

I figured that like the day before, the fog would lift around mid-day and the weather would clear as the day went on, so I dressed appropriately for that: sneakers, gym shorts, moisture-wicking shirt, a long-sleeved thermal, and a waist pack with two half-litre water bottles, about four granola bars, some red pepper slices, a few apples in the plastic bag from the grocery store, and some nuts. I figured that would be all I needed and even though I had rain gear with me, I decided to leave it in the car.

Cape Reinga Lighthouse in the blue morning fog

I walked down and out to the Cape Reinga Lighthouse again to try and get some good morning photos through the dense blue fog. On the way, I was dive-bombed by a few seagulls who were likely protecting their nest, but I should have taken it as a sign to just go back to my car. After visiting the lighthouse once more, I took the turn off down the path to the beach and it was eerily quiet with no one else around at 8am. The path runs right along the edge of sharp cliffs dropping down hundreds of metres to the rugged ocean below. I wanted to try and get some good shots looking down the cliff, but I knew better than to go too close to the edge, especially when the rocks were slick with fog.

I got down to the beach, which was kind of split into two sections. The beach I was on was a little tiny cove pinched between the cliffs I'd just hiked down and a steep little promontory about 20 metres on the other side of the beach. The ocean was very very rough this morning and straight lines of wave-trains rolled in one after another, constantly crashing over themselves, but the tide was low so I was easily able to walk around that steep promontory. But first, I sat and watched a cormorant at the water's edge for a few minutes before it got spooked by how close I was getting and flew off.

Cape Reinga, shrouded in mist, and reflected onto the beach

As I walked the 5 kilometres down the beach I couldn't get over the power of the ocean and the amazing beauty of the islands off Cape Maria Van Diemen in the distance through the fog and ocean spray. I was amazed at how quiet it seemed to be, almost the calm before a big storm. Other than the slight breeze and the waves crashing, there wasn't much to listen to other than the occasional chirp from some shore bird. Waves came in and left these glimmering thin sheets of water that slowly receded back into the ocean, allowing the surrounding hillsides to be reflected in them. It was a peaceful, almost mystical setting and with no one else on the beach, it was quite eerie!

About an hour and a half into my walk, the sky seemed to be trying to clear up as I forded a wide, but shallow, stream and followed the trail blazes (not extremely well-marked, mind you) up another promontory stuck between the middle of the sandy dune fields and the ocean. The rock of this tall hill was mostly these very slippery pink, green, yellow, and grey clays which if you weren't careful, you would see up close as your feet slid out from under you, sending you crashing to the ground. The surrounding dunes had creeped up the side of this hill over hundreds and thousands of years, and many of the bright-orange trail signs had been partially buried, so I had to be careful to keep my bearings about me. Even in the grey light, however, the landscape was beautiful. The trailing roots of the dune grasses were often exposed and looked like a long rope that had been draped across the dunes with a shoot of grass growing out every 10 centimetres or so. These ropes of roots criss-crossed the dunes and in some places, pretty purple flowers were growing on raised tussocks of dune grass.

Flowers growing on grassy tussocks in the dunes on Cape Reinga Beach

The trail wound it way around the hill, through the dunes, and on the other side, a wide expanse of dunes swept its way down to the beach toward the hilly knob that is Cape Maria Van Diemen. I almost missed the trail markers had I not seen the half-buried wooden sign pointing me in that direction. Cape Maria van Diemen did not seem too far away, but I soon realised how deceiving the landscape here could be. It felt like I'd been walking a good ten minutes toward the point, yet it didn't seem to get any closer! I did eventually come to a little rise, giving me a good look south down the coast and right out to a massive seastack, eroded away from the mainland by ages of wave action. But it was here I realised I was going to be in for some trouble.

While the weather seemed to want to clear up an hour earlier, it was on this rise that I got my first look at the weather over the Tasman Sea and all I could see was a wall of tall, dark, gray clouds. The clouds were a good distance offshore, but the wind was pushing them my way, and I could already start to feel the occasional rain drop. Being stubborn, I refused to turn myself around. After all, I was right at the bottom of the last rocky rise that was the westernmost tip of New Zealand. I could see the little utilitarian lighthouse at the top of the knob and decided that I couldn't hike out this far and not get up to that point, so I briskly started my walk up the hill. It wasn't too steep but the hillside was covered in these bushy, long-leafed plants and it was difficult to tell where exactly the trail was. I had to be careful because the trail I thought I was on was no more than a metre away from a steep drop down onto a rocky platform below and I didn't want to step into a hole covered by the plants and tumble down. Soon enough, I got to the top where the bushes thinned and grass took over. The view was impressive, looking back up to Cape Reinga off in the distance, and to Motuopao Island just offshore with its own private beach and another little light station on top. I scrambled to set up my camera on my pack so I could take a timer-shot of myself on top of Cape Maria Van Diemen as proof I'd been there, and as soon as I was satisfied with one of the two photos I took, the rain came.

Me on top of Cape Maria Van Diemen with Matuopao Island behind

I quickly emptied out the plastic bag my apples were in so I could wrap my camera - my bulky DSLR camera - into something waterproof and packed everything into the limited space inside the waist pack. I made sure my shoes were tied and my long sleeves were pulled over my hands because the drizzle had turned into a steady light right and it was not a warm rain. I hurried back to the bottom of the rocky hill at the end of Cape Maria Van Diemen and started my ascent up that wide, wind-swept sandy slope that seemed to take forever to get down. By the time I was halfway up that sandy slope, I was soaked. I was fortunate to have remembered to wear water-wicking clothing so even though I was wet, it wasn't stuck to my body like a cotton shirt would have been. And the woolly thermal I was wearing was at least keeping me somewhat warm in the cold rain, but I was still worried. I knew that hypothermia could easily set in and that symptoms of hypothermia included disorientation, poor decision making, and loss of a sense of time. Never having experienced hypothermia before, it was a challenge trying to decipher if any of the feeling I had were mental or actual physical. I grabbed a few protein-rich snacks out of my pack to make sure I wasn't going hungry and drank some of my water to make sure I wouldn't also get dehydrated.

By the time I got to the top of the sandy ramp, I was drenched - not a single bit of my clothes or person was dry or really warm for that matter. I knew I had to retrace my trail through the sand dunes behind the clayey headland, but once the ocean was out of sight, everything started to look the same. I did my best to follow the orange trail markers, but they weren't often visible, so I did my best to go back the way I thought I came, but each dune looked the same as the next and with footprints making trails in all sorts of directions, I couldn't figure out which was the way I came! I knew the ocean was generally off to my left and so I carried on.

Two figures started approaching me - they had been hiking from Cape Reinga, the direction I needed to go. I figured that since I was wet and they were wet I should at least let them know I was okay and ask if they had everything they needed, like water and food. They ended up being two girls, one from Scotland and the other from Ireland, who had met at a hostel and decided to do one of the loop trails in the area. They had indeed come from Cape Reinga but were covered in mud (apparently the mixture of rain and clay rocks had really made the ground very slippery and mucky) and after checking that we were all okay, wet but okay, we each went our own ways. I tried following their tracks and came across those clayey spots, taking my time to be careful so as not to slip and do something stupid like break my ankle. I definitely slipped and fell a few times, but other than being covered in sticky mud, I was alright.

I still couldn't really find the trail and began to wonder if I'd double-backed on myself and was heading in the opposite direction I wanted to be in. I was beginning to think I really did have hypothermia and that my brain was already starting to disorient my body. But I kept checking the time on my phone to give me a sense that I was moving forward and making progress and had a few more snacks and sips of water. There was going to be no way that the last people to see me ever was going to be two hiker-strangers. I just couldn't allow that. I thought of my family back at home, my folks who I hadn't been able to see over Christmas, my sister and her her husband who had just announced to us a week before that they were going to have a baby, and my brother and his wife who'd just been married that summer before. Thinking of them reset my resolve and I became determined to get back to my car. All I needed was to find my way back to the long beach walk. Once there, I at least knew where the trail was! I couldn't see the ocean yet, but I could see the upper reaches of the stream I'd crossed right before having to climb this hill, so I reoriented myself and after going up and down the next few rises I came to a lookout right above the stream I'd crossed before and believe me, it was a wonderful sight to see!

After the initial rain, I was able to take out my camera again. This is looking
back to Cape Maria Van Diemen and Matuopao Island with the dark
storm clouds coming in off the Tasman Sea

By the time I got down to the stream, the rain had stopped, though it was still windy, and I was definitely not going to dry out. I also still had another hour and a half hike to get back to the parking lot, so I rinsed my shoes off in the stream to empty them of any sand. I even stopped to take my camera out again, giving it a chance to dry off somewhat, but then I was off again and high-tailed it down the beach as fast as I could without overexerting myself.

The rain held off as I got nearer to the path at the bottom of the Cape Reinga cliffs, I realised I had one more obstacle in my way. As luck would have it, when I walked out from Cape Reinga the ocean was at low tide and the beach surrounding that steep little promontory was well wide enough. Not so on the way back. High tide was on its way in and the unrelenting wave trains were starting to crash over the rocky base of the promontory. I looked up into the foliage on the promontory for any sign of a trail I could take to go up and over the headland and while I found on that took me a few metres, it quickly disappeared and I carefully made my way back to the beach. It appeared I had three options: 1. Try the trail again and bushwhack my way over the promontory; 2. Wait for high tide to ebb back out away from the promontory; or 3. try my luck and passing around the rocky base before high tide got too high.

I decided to go for option number 3. The tide was still coming in but it wasn't all the way in yet, so I slung my camera over my back and carefully started finding footholds in the rock, hugging the base of the cliff as I shimmied across. The waves were breaking just a few metres away from me and the whitewater was splashing up over my feet. The going was slow, but at least there wasn't much distance to go. A few times I had to really hold fast to the rock wall and wait for a wave train to come through and then try to quickly hop across wide fractures in the rock between waves, but at least once the wave train caught up with me and bubbly water rising up well over my ankles. A few long reaches to sturdy foothold were almost missed, but after about 10 minutes, I made it around the headland to the safety of the little beach and cove on the other side. I took a few really deep breaths and looked back at where I'd just come from and was so immensely thankful to the Man Upstairs that I'd had the strength and perseverance to trust that my survival instincts would kick in and carry my across.

Looking back down at the rocky headland I had to skirt since there
was no trail over the top. At high tide, the wave trains kept pounding
the rocks and were big enough for water to rise over my feet!

And now, as the rain started to fall again, I quickly packed up my camera again and started the final ascent up the trail to the pathway at the lighthouse where throngs of people in ponchos were aimlessly wandering around, complaining about how miserable they felt and how wet they were, and I just brushed past them envying them and their rain-proof ponchos and dry clothes and otherwise warm tourist experience thinking, "If you only knew where I've just been, what I've just gone through, and what it took just to get back here!" As soon as I got back to my car, I pulled out my dry clothes and ran into the toilets to change out of the soaking wet clothes I'd spent the last three hours in.

Knowing I was safe in my car, back in dry clothes, I thought back to the previous five hours and came to a few conclusions. Firstly, it was so incredibly stupid of me to not have told anyone where I was going or what my plans were. I should have left a note in my car window saying what time I'd left and which direction I'd headed. And I should have checked the weather report (though there was no mobile service way out here or store to buy a newspaper from). Other than those untaken precautions, I also flipped through some of my photos and realised that I had done a hike that is epic in good weather and seemed legendary to me that I'd done it in the adverse conditions I'd been in. I decided that when all was said and done, it was an amazing experience I would jump at the opportunity to do again (of course being a bit more smart in my planning).

I said a few more "thank yous" to God before turning the key in the ignition, blasting on the heat, and driving off down the road back toward the mainland. It was only 1:00pm and I still had so much more to do today!

New Zealand: Cape Reinga

Travel Date: 2 January 2013

I said my goodbyes to my friends Martin and Lydia and left Waiheke Island early the next morning, catching a ferry back to Auckland where I lugged all of my gear about a kilometre through the city and picked up my rinky-dink car from Omega Car Rentals (Folks, their cars are old, cheap, and overpriced. Their customer service is dodgy at best. They were a very unhelpful company to rent from.) and was soon on my way up New Zealand's Highway 1 to Cape Reinga at the very northern tip of the North Island. While Google Maps says it is only a 5 hour drive, they assume there is no one else on the road, no accidents, you don't need to stop for petrol, you're not doing the drive during a holiday, and that the one toll road is operational... It took me almost 5 hours just to get from Auckland to Kaitaia at the turn-off to Cape Reinga.

That's not to say the drive wasn't pretty. In fact on Highway 1 you end up driving away from the coast for a little while but then you come up and over a large hill and are met with this expansive view of the Whangarei Heads ("wh" in New Zealand is pronounced "f") which are these staggering, precipitous cliffs jutting up out of the ocean, and it's then you realise that while you've been driving through "hilly" country, it is nothing compared to some of New Zealand's topography! Another beautiful and fun part of the drive was going through Mangamuka Gorge near Raetea Forest. Here, the road just goes up and up and up and up and up and up and up these tight winding, curving bends in the two-lane road where, at times, the road was tipped to the side on a 20°-angle, it seemed! I was a bit nervous because I was running low on petrol and worried that I wouldn't make it to the top of the road before running out. I just needed to make it to the top so I could put the poor little car in neutral and coast down the other side of the mountain! (I eventually made it).

I stopped in Kaitaia for some groceries and food since there are no stores or petrol stations out on the Cape itself. And then I started my drive out to the tip of the island. There is only one road to use and the drive is 110 km away from all civilisation. While you can't see it from the road, off to the left is Ninety Mile Beach (it's not 90 miles long!) which many visitors to NZ either hike or take their 4-wheel-drive utes on day trips, being careful to watch the tides so their cars don't end up being fed to the ocean. But honestly, for most of that drive there is little scenery to see until you get to the last 30-40km where the road really utilises the hilly terrain and give you amazing views of this thin peninsula with the Tasman Sea to the west and the Pacific Ocean to the east.

I wasn't too interested in the scenery here, though; I was more worried about securing a tent camping space at the Tapotupotu Bay campgrounds, run by the NZ Dept. of Conservation. The campsite doesn't take reservations, and I was worried that during peak holiday season, the whole campsite would be full, so I was mostly in a hurry to get to the campground and secure a spot for my tent. Eventually the road starts another large ascent up these rocky mountains and off to the left I could the the wide expansive sand dunes of Maria van Diemen Land (NZ's westernmost point), which would also be my target for tomorrow. Finally, I saw the turnoff for Tapotupotu Bay and took it, going a few kilometres down the dusty dirt road. Luckily, it was well-used and not too steep so my junky Nissan Sunny had no problem getting down the switchbacks to a tiny little sandy cove stuck between two rocky headlands: Tapotupotu Bay!

Coastal beaches stuck between headlands like this often have a high beach berm (2-3m) behind which is a flat lagoon with sandy banks, and it was all this high land that the campsite occupied. There were specific sites for RVs and one large grassy strip along the beach's edge where you can just pitch your tent where there's room, of which there was plenty and I had no problem finding a nice grassy area far from other tents. I paid the campsite attendant and set up my tent, but then I got back into my car and drove back out to the main road and turned right to drive the last few kilometres out to the lighthouse at Cape Reinga.

Maria Van Diemen Land (the westernmost point
of New Zealand) as seen from Cape Reinga

Cape Reinga is a spiritual place in Maori culture. It is believed that all Maori people originated from a place called Hawaiki somewhere in the Pacific Ocean and Kupe, the earliest Maori explorer from Hawaiki, believed Te Rerenga Wairua (Cape Reinga) to be the place where spirits would return to Hawaiki after death. Because of the spiritual nature of the site, tourists are strongly requested to not eat or drink anything past the parking lot - which, unfortunately, many less well-behaved tourists and respectful tourists neglect to notice. There is a nicely paved walkway that loops around from the parking lot down a hill and out to the lighthouse. In 1928, the organiser of the Ratana faith - a Christian group of Maori people - prophesied that "a great light would one day shine out on the world" from Cape Reinga and according to the displays around the area, some believe that the building of the Cape Reinga Light fulfills that prophecy. Below the light station is another little rocky point, Te Reinga, juts out into the merging waters of the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean on the side of which grows a solitary kahika tree called, Te Aroha and it is here that departed spirits descent to the ocean waters on the roots of the tree and begin their return journey to Hawaiki.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to visit Cape Reinga when the parking lot is full of tour buses because it is such a spiritual place, I imagine the vast number of people crowding the point would ruin its serenity. Fortunately, the night I visited, there were only a handful of tourists. It was so peaceful and quiet, the only sounds being those of the waves crashing on the rocky coast below, a few sea birds, and the wind blowing through the grassy hillsides. The air was warm and comfortable and you could see the turquoise waters of the  Pacific merging with the darker waters of the Tasman off the coast where a thin band of mixing water left a visible stripe a good distance off shore. To the west, clear views out to the long beach leading to Maria van Diemen's Land and the rocky hills marking the western most point of NZ. Off the point of Maria van Diemen's Land are a few more grass-covered islands, and a good distance from land to the north is another little archipelago called, Manawa Tawhi - or Panting Breath. A Maori chief once swam to those islands from the main land, naming them for his physical state upon arriving. While no one lives out there now, Maori people lived there until about 200 years ago! What an existence that must have been!

Cape Reinga Lighthouse and Te Reinga below. The dark line near the horizon is the mixing line between the waters
of the Tasman Sea to the west (left) and the Pacific Ocean to the east (right)

The sun was dipping toward the horizon and I thought I'd wait for it to set, but I soon realised it had a ways to go yet, so I headed back to the campsite to make a little dinner and explore the beach there. I'd met a guy from Auckland at the Lighthouse who, like me, was just taking a week-long break, exploring and taking photos, and we met again on the beach, taking photos and chatting, watching the sky turn a brilliant pink colour as the sun finally set behind the rocky promontory on the west side of the beach. But it was soon time to turn in for the night. I'd decided that the next morning I was going to hike out to Maria van Diemen's Land - a 15km return-trip hike.

New Zealand: Waiheke Island and Stoney Batter

Dates Traveled: 30 December 2012 - 2 January 2013

After spending a few hours on Rangitoto Island with my friends Martin and Lydia, we ferried back to the Auckland wharf, grabbed my bags from storage, and caught the last ferry of the day out to Waiheke (why-HEK-ee) Island where Martin's family stays. Waiheke is a 45-minute ferry ride out from Auckland and it is a wine-lover's paradise with dozens of vineyards strewn across the island. (I am not a wine connoisseur, so I don't really know what types of wine grow best in Auckland Harbour) The island is surrounded by sparkling water, private coves and inlets, and because of the loose sedimentary rock underneath, the hills are very steep and I don't think there was a straight road on the island! Quite a few people live on the island in a number of little communities connected to the wharf by the main road, but even more private drives twist and turn their way through sheep and cow pastures, over steep ascents, and between white sandy beaches. It reminded me a lot of Cape Cod, Martha's Vineyard, or Nantucket due to it's seclusion, it's high-end residents, it's scenic water views, and the awful traffic (though nothing really outdoes Cape Cod traffic on a Friday summer afternoon!).

Martin's whole family was celebrating the holidays at his parent's place and they couldn't have been more welcoming to me, refusing to let me do anything but relax, eat, and help myself to wine or beer no matter how much I insisted I could help out! The house was situated way back away from any main road and up on a hill with a beautiful view of the little cove below, the New Zealand mainland across the water, and the sun setting down behind the adjacent hillside, all surrounded by native forests! It was spectacular! After I set up my tent in the back yard, Lydia, Martin, and I walked down to the water's edge and strolled along the pebbly perimeter of the estuary. It was high tide then, but during low tide the water retreats and reveals an expansive shelf of sticky, mucky, salt marsh. Little crabs darted around the rocks, and rock oysters were fastened to almost every little bit of rock covered by water at high tide.

Sunset over Awaararoa Bay (don't ask me how to pronounce that!) on Waiheke Island

To be honest, not much happened those next few days. We did go to Onetangi Beach the morning after I arrived and spent a few hours there. Being as terrified of swimming in the ocean as I am, I was determined on this trip to start getting over that fear! I'm a fine swimmer, but I just am hesitant when it comes to the ocean. Well, I enjoyed the warm waters of Onetangi Beach, but the wind was a bit much so we decided to call it quits and headed over to Wild on Waiheke, a beautiful vineyard/brewery with delicious pizzas and beer, cider, and wine (had to try a bit of each!) and there were all sorts of games for Martin and Lydia's little nieces and nephews to play, but it looked too fun so we eventually joined in the extra-large chess set and bocci ball - but there were also more grown-up activities like volleyball, laser-skeet shooting, and archery! Soon, though, the rest of the family headed back to the house while Martin, Lydia, and I drove up to the Peacock Sky Vineyard, which the rest of the family had raved about earlier, for a little bit of a wine tasting. It was good wine, and the food they paired it all with was delicious, but again, I just don't know my wines well enough to be able to say, "The acidity of the Cab Sav really brought out the flavour of the garlic chicken skewer." (I don't even know if cab savs have acidity or if they pair well with chicken. Probably not. Oh well. I do know that Cab Sav is a wine, though, so there's a plus!

Rows of grapes on Waiheke Island

On the way back down the road to the house we saw a few pukekos which are these birds with brilliant navy blue plumage and a bright red beak perched up on top of spindly legs. There were just two of them rummaging around a fence post, but I didn't have my camera handy enough to get a photo of them before they darted off. People always say that New Zealand is the place to go if you want the Down Under experience where no animals will kill you (unlike Australia) and this is true. What took me by surprise were the number of amazing birds here! Not only did we see the pukekos, but at night you could hear moreporks calling to each other across the bay (here's a YouTube video which doesn't show much, but you can at hear their distinct, "More-pork!" calls), and during the day we would frequently see tuis (TOO-ees) flitting through the trees with their black bodies and white bobble-feathers at their necks. Also, just down along the bay below the house is a protected nesting ground for the shore dottrels and we frequently saw them flying around.

I think it was New Year's Eve by this point and after a great barbecue dinner and the little kids soon went to bed. Us adults then sat around drinking and playing a card game called, "asshole" which was really fun and I'll probably introduce it to my family at some point - but I forgot how to play... That was a nightly occurrence, but after playing this night, we walked up the very steep driveway to the top of the hill to see if we could get a good show from the Auckland New Year's Fireworks. Well, we saw the fireworks, but they were extremely uninspired and dull. There were maybe two or three big sprays of pyrotechnics from the top of the Sky Tower, but then the show was over and we had to manage our way back down the driveway.

The next morning was the first day of the new year and Martin and his brother impressed us all with homemade eggs benedict and it wasn't long before everyone packed up into the cars for a mini day-trip out to the northeast point on the island to the Stoney Batter Historic Reserve - a WWII gun battery that was part of a network of stations around the perimeter of the Hauraki Gulf. Built by the Kiwis and funded by the US Military, this network of battlements were set up to protect Hauraki Gulf and Auckland Harbour from any incoming threat from the enemy. The US got involved because the US Navy's ships used the protection of Auckland Harbour during the war. Stoney Batter's guns could fire far beyond the line of sight so the various radio stations would report the location of an enemy ship to the radio control centre on top of Rangitoto Island who then would call to Stoney Batter and let them know which way to point their weapons. While the threat of enemy invasion was real (3 Japanese subs did sneak past Sydney Harbour's defenses and sank a British battleship), the enemies never came and the battery never saw real action. The entire complex is pretty astonishing though - the three gun batteries are all connected by over a kilometre of underground tunnels which you can tour with the aid of a very bright torch, provided by the very knowledgeable woman who was attending the station, though she was a bit gruff and insisted on giving a little lamb a bottle of formula before taking our money. There is also a little "museum" there which is nothing more than a storage room full of photos, maps, and bits and bobs from the machinery that used to be in the tunnel systems. It appears as though the tunnels and bunkers are being renovated, but we couldn't be sure. It was nice to get out of the heat though and into the dark, dank, echoey tunnels! It's definitely something to check out if you're ever there. Once we got out of the tunnels and back into sunlight we walked up the hills in the sheep paddocks to the outside of the batteries and the views of the Gulf were so clear we could easily see Great and Little Barrier Islands way off in the distance!

Exploring the depths of Stoney Batter Historical Site

On the way back to the house, the whole family regrouped at Man o' War Vineyards for some tasty cheeses, olives, meats, and some wine, of course! What a fun time we had just sitting around talking, joking, watching the little kids play cricket, and eating! But the day was hot and everyone was exhausted so back home we went and while everyone else decided to do a little napping, I nipped down to the bay and took a stroll to the dottrel preserve and around the bend to a wide beach used as the launching site for rock oyster farmers whose farms were just out in the little bay. I was leaving the next morning so I also got my things together to make a quick pack-up in the morning and the rest of the evening was just relaxed on the porch looking out over the water while the sun set over the hills.

No better way to welcome in a New Year than this!