Doubtful Sound

THE DOUBTFUL SOUND

               From the MV Southern Secret negotiating the waters of Fiordland's Doubtful Sound


       The days of North Island exploration for Nate and Sam included beach days at Waihi and Pauanui, geothermal and geyser siting at Rotorua and Waimrangu, marketplace roaming through many small sites.  Plans and preparations cleared for the journey to the South Island.
       Tom stopped working for a week.  Cheryl, Sam, Nate, and Tom drove to Auckland, left the Corolla in a carpark in hopes that it would be stolen, and climbed abroad a Jet Star flight to Queenstown.  The south island adventure center where young vivacious adults seek reckless activities.  Due to her previous experience of recklessness, Cheryl led the group through the mountain town.

      Sitting on the shore of one of the enormous south alpine lakes, gold was the drawing card to settle the area in the 1860's.  The leisure industry took over in the 1950's developing a robust town with wind, land, and water recreation year round.

      A stout Subaru station wagon allowed a mode  of transportation.  With at least 4 cylinders working, downhill cruising functioned well.

Fergburgers served as a fuel station for the four.  The sky as blue as Sam's Cubs shirt; gear packed and goodies stuffed;  satisfaction.  A drive up the road along Lake Wakatipu allowed a family picture opportunity.  The setting augments the pose, at least a little.

Then they headed southwest to the land known as the Fiordlands.  Foreboding.  Few humans.  Sand flies. No Fergburgers.  Fog? Fury? Fantasy?

Te Anau functions as the deportation point into the Fiordland.  The four spent the first night in the youth hostel overlooking Lake Te Anau.  The first bus loaded the group early next morning to begin a journey to the unknown.  In 1770 Captain Cook apparently chose not to navigate the area of the Fiordlands.  Too narrow?  Too mystical?  Too frightening?  Too doubtful?  …..The Doubtful Sound.
                                                                                                                                                               
No roads lead directly to the destiny.  One requires
help.    The bus brought them to Lake Manapouri and the next trip aboard a powered ship across the lake.  After an hour the lake became more isolated.  The rain and mist followed.  A final bus ride took the group over a pass on pitted, winding, gravel rodes with drop-offs to rival bungy jumps.  The MV Southern Secret awaited them.  A cabin cruiser capable of 12 passengers with a crayfish lunch set before them.

 Off the mooring and into the sound with low hanging clouds, mist and a chilly rain ran the Southern Secret.  The beauty was large, looming, and seductive.  Each bend revealed areas veiled by curtains of mist and silhouettes of nameless cliffs and waterfalls.






                                                                                 

The beauty summoned the Secret further into the waters of Doubt.  Awed occupants moved in and out of the deck.  Intermittent moments of dazzle seemed to occur continuously.








                                                                                 
Time came to investigate the surroundings more
carefully.  The scouting group made their way to nearby isolated isles, inlets, and vegetation.  No hidden treasure found, they moved as a group of goslings eventually finding the safe haven of mother ship.








 At times the vegetation grow so heavy that the root system failed to hold and tree avalanches would occur.  So much fresh water colored brown from the tannins poured into the waters that a layer of fresh water actually lay over the salt water.  The only time that the blue or teal colored water was not evident.





                                                     
Following the kayaking,  Captain Adam pulled the Secret into a cove and the fishing poles came out.  The fish were hungry.  Sam and Nate and few other fishermen appeared to be quit active.  Tom fed the fish without them harming themselves on his hook.

Nate caught many.  Nothing worth keeping.  He did win the prize for the smallest, ugliest fish.


Everyone battled the rain, but it felt like real fishing.

 Sam also had an active hook.  He seemed to be able to convince Nellie, the cook and Adam's mate, to bait his line.  he caught the only worthwhile fish…a blue cod.  Nellie cooked it for him, of course, and it was the best tasting fish in his visit.

   The following morning Adam brought up his crayfish cages successfully in preparation for the nest crew.










                                                                           

After a night sleeping aft dawn opened on the Doubtful.  No doubt.  The mist opened slightly.  Enough to paint the sky.










Waterfalls were ubiquitous throughout the sound.  Due to the rain, more falls poured out of the cliffs and mountains.  The effect increased the mist and added to the auditory dimension.  Most areas yet untouched.  The entire area of the Fiordland remains a national forest with wilderness designation.

 Nate and Sam finished the Doubtful Sound with the lifting of the clouds.  Southwest New Zealand had successfully been explored and appreciated.

"Eerie, but another awesome" sayeth Sam the traveler.

                        They left the Doubtful Sound and reversed the track that brought them into the isolated world.  The massive region of beauty remains a challenge to find and hopefully will continue to be so.