Ruth wakes us up with coffee at tent-side at 5:00 am. The goal is to get to the kayak service by 7:00 and be on the water before the flightseeing craft arrive like mosquitoes later in the morning.
Clouds hang on the peaks and skim the mountainsides. A rosy sunrise that deserved a box of film, instead I was allowed 2 stops. The road reaches Milford Sound via a 1+ km tunnel, opening into a valley of waterfalls.
Helmsman's view of Milford Sound
We race along to meet our appointed time with the outfitter. They truly outfit us, head to toe in polypro, spray jackets and skirts, pogees, all but hat and sandals. Why get our own gear wet? Being out on the water is like being in dream time. The guide points out a waterfall and asks us to guess the distance - 4 km someone says, a little less than my guess of 2.5 miles, and well short of the actual 10 km or 6 miles. We are going to have a sunny day in Milford Sound! The previous week they had a day with over 250 mm (about 10 inches) of rain. The fresh water pools on top of the salt water, varying in depth from a half to many meters, and creating a unique seawater community of plants and animals that people come from far away to scuba dive in.
We paddle along the margins - a penguin! We watch a Fiordland Crested Penguin rock-hop away from the edge of the water into the trees. Keep on the look out for more penguins, and seals, both of which we spot but not as close up as the first.
The day tripping cruise ships and the planes start to arrive, but the place is huge and we feel alone in it except for the noise. Rob the guide leads us to a waterfall and we paddle up to the base of it, the force of the air and mist blowing us back, laughing hard. He also takes us to the end of the most famous hike in NZ, the Milford Track, which begins in Te Anau and crosses the mountains, hut to hut. Maybe another trip.
Only one way out - Ruth finds a track in the bush for lunch, which I almost miss because I've taken my photo gear to the river to try to make something out of the noon sun. The sun is high here in these latitudes (below 45 degrees, not sure how much). Luckily the sandflies don't like direct sunlight. We stop at the Chasm, where the river meets a transition zone between soft and hard rock and has cut through a chasm of tortured shapes and basins of water from tumbled rocks. The forest is all beech trees, remnants of the Gondwanaland geologic time, understory of ferns and lawyer vines, spiny so they don't let you forget them.
Back through Te Anau and south to the edge of Lake Monowai for camp. There really are sheep everywhere, just like in the pictures you've seen of NZ. This region is also big on red deer herds, which are kept behind high fences. Somehow the deer herds do not look right, although the venison in the market looks tasty. The wind dies at sunset as we divvy up the communal food and sort our own gear for the overnighter.
