It was not a promising start. We'd arrived at the rather breezy Bluff ferry terminal well on time for our 9am departure, farewelling Bill in the car park. It was difficult to remain upright as we trundled our bags into the terminal, a hint perhaps of things to come. There was no sign of our catamaran. It hadn't yet made it across the strait. Too windy, apparently. Big seas. Hmm.
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| The pole is actually keeping me upright |
Many blustery hours later, a suspiciously small vessel tied up at the wharf and we were shepherded on board. This was not a voyage for the faint-hearted. Or for the weak of stomach, though some of those unfortunately made it onboard. Dwarfed by alarming swells, the little catamaran-that-could ploughed its away across the notoriously fickle Foveaux Strait.
Helpful hint: What's the best way to avoid seasickness? According to a local ferry skipper, to stand under a tree.
The first clue that our week-long Rakiura expedition onboard the Milford Wanderer could involve a royal scavenger hunt came from a most unlikely chance meeting. We had bumped into Simon at the Bluff terminal. He was one of the good guys at St Peter's and is now teaching in the South Island. Simon and his uncle were off to the family bach for a few days. Stumbling across a familiar face at the extreme edge of the country, what were the odds? Nah, Kiwi as, bro.
Simon filled us in on pub quiz, a regular Sunday night affair at the South Seas hotel in Oban. He and his uncle had automatic right of entry whenever they were on the island.Did we want to come? Did we know that Prince Harry had also been to pub quiz? Regretfully, we had to decline. We had a luxury floating hotel to board and gourmet food to nibble on. But we appreciated the offer to join such illustrious company.
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| The Milford Wanderer |
The Times' headline encapsulates the evening: "Prince Harry's rowdy pub quiz night on Stewart Island." A good time was clearly had by all, including the then-bachelor Prince.
Meanwhile, our little cat had berthed alongside Oban wharf. Simon and his uncle strode off to conquer pub quiz while most of the remaining ferry passengers, ourselves included, tottered the few metres to the Milford Wanderer. Dinner that first night was roast pork, with pavlova to follow. In case you were interested.
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| Intrepid (but well fed) adventurers |
Like many of the 30-odd passengers on board the boat, we were repeat customers, having spent a week, three years ago, poking around deepest Fiordland. This time, we were to explore Port Pegasus, to the south-east of Oban, and Paterson Inlet.
I could wax lyrical (which is obviously a posher way of rabbiting on) about these cruises. But I'll spare you. They are magnificent. If you ever have the opportunity, there is no better way to explore these rugged wilderness areas of New Zealand. Google Real Journeys. Go on.
We had a talented artist on board the Wanderer. Michael was never without his sketchpad and drew a constant stream of admirers as he magically conveyed the day's experiences onto the page. His artwork somehow perfectly captures the spirit of Rakiura, something that often eludes the photographer. michael_david_geissler is a joy to follow on Instagram.
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| A curious juvenile female Hooker's sea lion/whakahao |
We spent some days exploring Port Pegasus, hiking, climbing Bald Cone and encountering sea lions. [Rakiura salmon and apple pie. Roast duck and chocolate brittle with ice cream. Roast beef followed by beetroot chocolate cake.]
The final leg of the cruise saw us return to Paterson Inlet, a four-hour sea journey, where we were met by a pint-sized border control officer. Detector Gadget, a crossbred terrier, has been trained to hunt out rats. Only after a Gadget bag-check were we able to board the tender for an afternoon on Ulva Island.
Part of Rakiura National Park, Ulva is a DOC-managed predator-free sanctuary for bird and plant life. And it is simply stunning. Joseph Banks famously described the dawn chorus in the Marlborough Sounds as '...the most melodious wild musick I have ever heard, almost imitating small bells ...'. There was certainly a sense of that 'wild musick' enveloping us as we toured the island with our DOC guide, with the likes of saddlebacks, weka, Chatham Island robins, kaka, kereru and tui for company.
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| You're never too old for a cool stamp! |
This was our final full day on board the Wanderer. So it was an evening of relaxed conversations and exchanges of contact details.
As had been the case throughout the week, it was interesting to watch the crew in action at dinner time. All seven of them, skipper included, were rostered on to serving meals, clearing tables and washing dishes. This was a very shipshape ship indeed. [Oh sorry. Lamb ribs, ice cream.]
The following afternoon, we disembarked for the final time and were given an hour to explore Oban before taking the ferry back to Bill on the Mainland.
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| Where it all happened . . Or did it? |
On the pretext of needing an-actual-flat-white-kind-of-coffee-for-the-first-time-in-a-week, I coerced Bruce into the public bar of the South Seas hotel, scanning the walls for princely photos or memorabilia.. The coffee was good. The ambience, well, what you'd expect in Stewart Island's only watering hole.But not a skerrick of evidence of The Royal Visit.
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