A TRIP TO DOUBTFUL SOUND

Otago Witness, Issue 3594, 30 January 1923, Page 23

A TRIP TO DOUBTFUL SOUND

By

H. K. D.

Accounts of a trip to Doubtful Sound have recently been given by members of the Y.M.C.A., but as their experiences were in some respects unfortunate, some idea of the route under perfect weather conditions, and of what is to be seen on the Sound itself, may be interesting to those who love the lonelier haunts of Nature and the less-troddec tracks of men. Our own party was a small one—only three —but by joining in with two other parties, when we reached the Doubtful Sound hut, our number was increased to fourteen. The accommodation of the hut was taxed to its utmost, but there were comfortable beds for all. Our guide, who in one day plays the varied roles cf cook and captain, bootmender and general manager, was not unduly perturbed, and during our four days’ stay there was perfect order and harmony in this far out-west establishment at the head of Deep Cove. The hut is situated just by the bank of the Ly via. its clear water appearing green with the reflection of the overhanging birches. A little distance up stream is the peaceful anchorage of the launch Constance, which we regarded with increased interest after reading of her adventurous passage from Riverton last October. Away to the right, across a stretch of mudflat, can be seen the beautiful Helena Falls, named after a Thmedin lady who crossed to the Sound with Mr Murrell, sen., in 1901. The Sound itself is not visible from the hut, and one seems to be almost entirely shut in by wooded cliffs. The sandflies, alas! are in abundance; but we soon learned to get in and out of the hut door with lightning rapidity, to have our veils always at hand, and to submit with a laugh to any inconvenience that we suffered. At certain times the sandflies are worse than at others, and out on the water they give no trouble at all. The arrangements of the hut are similar to those of the Milford track huts—a kitchen with door on the left leading to the ladies’ bimkroom. and a door behind leading 'to that of the men. The meals were excellent—porridge and bacon and eggs; soup, sheep’s tongues, and sausages; bread and scones, all prepared on the big open tire, and served in an appetising manner. At nights the piercing cry of the wekas was heard. Sometimes the piglike grunting of the kakapo, and more rarely the whistle of the kiwi broke the stillness. One morning we were very much amused to see an old weka feeding its young one from the remains of the porridge pot. We had come over on the Sunday, and had found the walk fairly, strenuous, so that we were not sorry to wake next morning to the sound of heavy rain. W T e spent most of New Year’s Day indoors, studying maps of the fiord district, recounting past experiences of walks and climbs, and passing the evening with merry parlour games. Tuesday dawned, with blue skies and sunshine. and about 10.50 a.m. the engine of the Constance was heard alongside the hut, and we all stepped on board. In a very few minutes we were out on the waters of the much-talked of, long-thought-of Sound. Looking back, we could see clearly the Wilmot Pass over which we had come —- a great gap on the skyline with Mount Barber on the left, and Mount Wilmot on the right. The trip was an all-day one to the head of Crooked Arm, some twenty miles away. For a mile and a-lialf near the entrance to the Arm, as we faced towards the open sea, the water was decidedly choppy; but once we turned in to the left, it again assumed 'its mirrorlike appearance. It is hardly possible to describe the grandeur of Crooked Arm and of Hall’s Arm, which we visited next morning. The beetling cliffs rising abruptly from the Sound, sometimes thousands of feet in height, are mantled to the water’s edge with vegetation—tall birches, ratas, ribbonwoods, red pines, interspersed with smaller trees and shrubs. On one mosscovered precipice in the sound great masses of the orchid Deudrobium, with its waxy flowers, could be seen far above us. One specimen of the West Coast cabbage tree, apparently Cordyline indivisa, at once attracted our notice. Among the trees, a few pairs of wild pigeons were seen. Now and again a solitary red bill crossed our course. Shags and paradise ducks were seen, too, but nowhere were there birds in great numbers. Ojver and over again, as another point was rounded, a fresh vision of beauty burst upon our view, and all day long the ardent photographers of the party were hard at work. The brilliant colouring of the foregrounds, however, and the delicate tints of hazy distances, no mere photograph can reproduce. Towards the head of Hall's Arm there are several possible landing places. Up here many years ago some naturalists had a Qamp for several months for the purpose of studying the native birds. The water in most parts is so. deep that the launch was steered close in along the shore, and we were able to pluck sprays of some shrubs we specially wished to have. Wednesday afternoon wa3 spent in a walk through the bush by the hut and a visit to the Helena Falls. The latter will repay the walk across the mud flat, and the scramble over the great boulders of the creek. The spray is very welcome to sunburnt faces, and our eyes were delighted with the handsome Senecios and Helichrysums, violets, veronicas, and white oxaiis growing among the rocks. Bv the time we returned home, rain was falling and with the thought of a long walk next day we decided to retire early and be up betimes next morning in order to take pS. go ‘ ng UP ‘ he „ ul breakfasted just about daylight, had a last walk down to the Lyvia ford with a chorus of bellbirds overhead, and leav mg our trusty guide to set his house in order for the next party, we set off with our packs a few minutes before 5 a m The rain had all gone, the air was cool and fresh, and everyone was in high spirits as we crossed the now Harmless-look in ■>■ Stella Burn and began the ascent of what is known as Leslie’s Ladder. Each hour, a 10 minutes’ spell was taken —a good plan for those not accustomed to long tramps across country. The views of the sound were more and more enchanting the higher we cliipoed. The one we shall probably best remember was that from a great rock in the bush through a break in the forest, when we saw far below us the deep blue wafers of the winding sound with the morning mists still floating in long lines above the wooded hills. All around us was the old, old mos 3 forest with its giant trees festooned with hanging greenery; soft, soft beds of moss on to which one flings one®elf with a sigh of relief; sometimes, too,

it must be admitted, wet, wet beds cf sphagnum into which one sinks up to the boot top. Here a slight movement of the bushes, and the glimpse of a dark object arouse our curiosity. We push aside the fern and find a wise old weka staring at us. I‘urther on a cunning spider has spun ms web across our path anfl trees to bar the way. Everywhere up here near the pass are the sweet, fresh mountain flowers, white violets, and forget-me-not-, ourisias, geums, and daisies. Now and again a blaze of scarlet shows where the rata and mistletoe grow. Almost unconsciously we find the poet’s words running through our minds: Earth has not anything to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty. But we cannot stay up here. We moist move on down the other side. About 10 a.m. we arrived at the halfway tent, where, alter much coaxing, a fine fire boiled our billies, and tea was made just as our guide appeared along the track behind us. bringing with him more solid refreshment. I'hotographs were taken at various stages during the afternoon, and soon we found ourselves skirting the familiar bed of the Spey with its rounded pebbles and clear, sparkling waters. Once again we made the crossing, not this time carried over by strong arms, but in preference wading, that hot feet might be cooled and muddy boots more easily cleaned. At 6 p.m. we were seated on the Manapouri launch, fhorouglilv enjoying a substantial lunch, and presently we were speeding down the lake, leaving far behind us the famous Leaning Peak and Cathedral Peaks. "One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name.” and I am sure that every member of our party will look back with grateful and lasting pleasure to those days so full of deep and pure enjoyment in the neighbourhood of Doubtful Sound.