Its hard to tell because of all the moisture in the air anyway (the east coast is like a sponge, heavy forests soaking up all the weather that hits the southern alps) but the next morning I think its raining slightly less than it had been the day before.
We fill in disclaimers and meet the rest of the group before getting kitted up with kayak gear. After freezing on the glacier I'm wearing six layers, all of which come off as I'm given thermals, a fleece and a huge yellow waterproof and told to wear no cotton. We're also given spray decks - big hoop like skirts made of wetsuit material. These get fixed around the top of the kayak where we're sitting to stop any water from getting in.
The kayaks are doubles, meaning Alex and I get to argue over steering, and have pedals which control a rudder at the back. After a quick demonstration on paddling techniques we're in the water and heading out into the mist. Our first stop is the 165ft Bowen Falls. It doesn't look very big, but thats apparently because the rocks surrounding it are so much bigger. We get to paddle right up to the bottom of the waterfall, which is hard work and quite damp.
As a group we keep close to the sides of the fiord, as this is where most wildlife gathers. We do catch a glimpse of a little black blob, which turns out to be a rare fiordland crested penguin, but he keeps his distance. Alex asks if we might see dolphins, and Pete, our guide cries 'Don't say the D word!'. Apparently he only spots dolphins once every couple of weeks.
The combination of being very steep and solid rock, carved out only by tonnes of glacial ice, doesn't seem to prevent greenery from growing on the high walls of the sound. Moss, shrubs and trees have all managed to find somewhere to root in, providing habitat for various birdlife, including nesting penguins. In places there are patches of bare rock where a tree avalanche or 'travalanche' has occurred. When there are too many root systems trying to cling on to one patch of rock, combined with just a bit too much rain, whole sections of forest are stripped off the rock face. Our guide points out various 'travalance' zones where moss is starting cover the rock face and trees beginning to grow.
We 'raft up' for lunch in the middle of the sound in order to avoid the sand flies, supposedly left by the Maori gods to dissuade people from staying too long in paradise, which plague the shores. We eat sitting in our kayaks and only one person manages to drop their sandwhich in the water.
After lunch we paddle across to the other side, looking to spot some seals. Pete, at the front, calls back to us 'See I told you there was more wildlife at the edges!'. I hope this means he has spotted some seals, but when I catch up I see the arched grey backs and dorsal fins of a pod of dolphins swimming toward us. "Quick lets turn around and follow them" Pete cries. From what I can tell there are five or six of them, but they keep poping up and down. Sometimes we think we've lost them for good until the appear again - in front of us, behind us and right up next to the kayaks . We paddle along with them for about fifteen minutes until they swim off completley, and I realise I was too busy watching them to get my camera out. Oh well, it was raining too much anyway.
Not much can top that and we spend the last hour idlely paddling back to shore, having gone out of our way a bit with the dolphins. We've been on the water or four hours now and despite the thermals I'm freezing - it having drizzled constantly. One advantage off all the rain is that there are hundreds of mini water falls running down the side of the rocks, where as on dry days there are usually only three or four. Although they make for a dramatic and impressive surrounding, they don't warm me up much. However, the huge heater in the changing rooms of the kayak centre does. I'm warm and dry in minutes and after saying goodbye to our group and thankyou to Pete we're back on the road.
Half an hour into our drive and we're stopped by yet more wild life. This time another of one of New Zealand's silly birds - a Kea. Known as alpine parrots Keas are notorious for eating bits of cars/tents/hiking gear - anything they can get their beaks into (which is a lot). We, guiltily, feed this one some chocolate raisins to get a few photos, ignoring all the signs saying 'Do not feed the Kea'.
We fill in disclaimers and meet the rest of the group before getting kitted up with kayak gear. After freezing on the glacier I'm wearing six layers, all of which come off as I'm given thermals, a fleece and a huge yellow waterproof and told to wear no cotton. We're also given spray decks - big hoop like skirts made of wetsuit material. These get fixed around the top of the kayak where we're sitting to stop any water from getting in.
The kayaks are doubles, meaning Alex and I get to argue over steering, and have pedals which control a rudder at the back. After a quick demonstration on paddling techniques we're in the water and heading out into the mist. Our first stop is the 165ft Bowen Falls. It doesn't look very big, but thats apparently because the rocks surrounding it are so much bigger. We get to paddle right up to the bottom of the waterfall, which is hard work and quite damp.
As a group we keep close to the sides of the fiord, as this is where most wildlife gathers. We do catch a glimpse of a little black blob, which turns out to be a rare fiordland crested penguin, but he keeps his distance. Alex asks if we might see dolphins, and Pete, our guide cries 'Don't say the D word!'. Apparently he only spots dolphins once every couple of weeks.
The combination of being very steep and solid rock, carved out only by tonnes of glacial ice, doesn't seem to prevent greenery from growing on the high walls of the sound. Moss, shrubs and trees have all managed to find somewhere to root in, providing habitat for various birdlife, including nesting penguins. In places there are patches of bare rock where a tree avalanche or 'travalanche' has occurred. When there are too many root systems trying to cling on to one patch of rock, combined with just a bit too much rain, whole sections of forest are stripped off the rock face. Our guide points out various 'travalance' zones where moss is starting cover the rock face and trees beginning to grow.
We 'raft up' for lunch in the middle of the sound in order to avoid the sand flies, supposedly left by the Maori gods to dissuade people from staying too long in paradise, which plague the shores. We eat sitting in our kayaks and only one person manages to drop their sandwhich in the water.
After lunch we paddle across to the other side, looking to spot some seals. Pete, at the front, calls back to us 'See I told you there was more wildlife at the edges!'. I hope this means he has spotted some seals, but when I catch up I see the arched grey backs and dorsal fins of a pod of dolphins swimming toward us. "Quick lets turn around and follow them" Pete cries. From what I can tell there are five or six of them, but they keep poping up and down. Sometimes we think we've lost them for good until the appear again - in front of us, behind us and right up next to the kayaks . We paddle along with them for about fifteen minutes until they swim off completley, and I realise I was too busy watching them to get my camera out. Oh well, it was raining too much anyway.
Not much can top that and we spend the last hour idlely paddling back to shore, having gone out of our way a bit with the dolphins. We've been on the water or four hours now and despite the thermals I'm freezing - it having drizzled constantly. One advantage off all the rain is that there are hundreds of mini water falls running down the side of the rocks, where as on dry days there are usually only three or four. Although they make for a dramatic and impressive surrounding, they don't warm me up much. However, the huge heater in the changing rooms of the kayak centre does. I'm warm and dry in minutes and after saying goodbye to our group and thankyou to Pete we're back on the road.
Half an hour into our drive and we're stopped by yet more wild life. This time another of one of New Zealand's silly birds - a Kea. Known as alpine parrots Keas are notorious for eating bits of cars/tents/hiking gear - anything they can get their beaks into (which is a lot). We, guiltily, feed this one some chocolate raisins to get a few photos, ignoring all the signs saying 'Do not feed the Kea'.
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