“HIGH ADVENTURE”

Otago Witness, Issue 4048, 13 October 1931, Page 71

“HIGH ADVENTURE”

B.v Maero. So gladly from the songs of modern speech Men turn, and see the stars and feel the free Shrill winds . . . Ln everyone there smoulders a desire to sail beyond the sunset, to seek and to find. Forever shall, the exploits of Ulysses, that royal vagabond of history, stir the blood of even the dullest mortal and set the mind afire with great imaginings. Alas, how few may yield to these exquisite temptations, for, imprisoned by office walls, bound by convention and responsibility, or fettered by restraint, we sink into dull routine, to be occasionally drugged with the thoughts of what might have been. Still, deep romance or high adventure await on every side. After all. they are but the magic of the mind, the atmosphere of one’s own creations. Too often we look to other lands or to days now gone. Is it necessary to gaze upon tlie starlit Nile, to climb the towering Himalayan peaks, or sail the seven seas? No! Here around us, everywhere it lies. Seek it in this our wonderful land of the south. Forget the cares of toil; clothe each hour of freedom with an air of achievement and endow them with a purpose.

Thus equipped, we sought adventure. Our ■' Holy Grail ” was I’oteriteri, a large, sinuous, forest-encompassed lake seen by few, s t away in the mountains of the west. So in the darkened hours before the dawn, with, paries aboard and light of heart, we. a happy band of youth., motored off from Invercargill across the sleeping plain, through the misty Longwood hills to Tuatapere. Daybreak found us at I’apatotara cliffs, midway in the majestic 35-mile sweep of Tewaewae Bay, which curves westward to the distant mountains crowding down to the sea, ridge on ridge, a shadowed mass of purple darkness glittering with a thousand sparkling facets caught by the rising sun. There, luring us on, lay our goal.

Further west stood Bluecliffs, and on this rugged shore an embarkation in the surf where seconds count as hours. Swiftly and menacingly a high green wall advanced and, as the stern tose steeply, loose gear crashed noisily about, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood and snapping oars. Crunching, crashing, the boat was swept on to the jagged rocks, till darkness and ice-cold paralysing water engulfed us ail. Forty-pound packs on our backs! Hopeless we thought our chances of survival in this savage watery tern r. It was but seconds, though it seemed long hours, before the roller receded, leaving, fortunately, no disaster, but a scene .if utter confusion at this dread place of several earlier tragedies. A few hours later Port Craig was reached, and, leaving it behind, we entered the trackless I- iordland. to cross the roaring Wairaurahiri or a dozen streams deen and green, or to watch the fading embers die at evening camps: and so to within a few miles of the lake where lack of time and a deep gorge compelled us to return. Thus we found adventure.

Again we felt that irresistible call. We would cross the stormy seas ami visit Pegasus, that magnificent lonely harbour of the south. The very lighthouse, flashing its beams across the sky, lured us on to Bluff, where our ketch lay ready. To most. Foveaux was an oblivion or a swirling torture of endless motion, easing only as Stewart Island drew near. Southward past East Cape we sailed to Port Adventure, to spend the night snug in Abraham’s Bosom, a paradise of golden beaches and scarlet rata —a veritable page from “ Treasure Island.” Next day the maze of the Breaksea Islands was left behind, but a roaring gale whipping clouds of spray from off long, narrow, steep green seas drove us into Tikotatahi Bay for shelter, where, safe ashore, we looked out across the entrance to — Where night dwells o’er the deep and now outflies The gloomy west and whistles in the skies. With the seas showing little sign of abating, thoughts of the morrow were dispelled only by the demands of sleep. A third < ay’s rising sun saw us running south once more, south into great long swells rolling in from the Antarctic, the wind strengthening and dark, ominous clouds speeding over a rising sea and an iron-bound coast that gave no shelter. Green mountains, mast high and leagues across, marched up in endless procession. Above, large ugly beaked albatrosses wheeled and shrieked with the strumming ropes and whistling rigging. Sails reefed down and a mast straining before the gale, we climbed these steep walls of sea. The bowsprit cut the sky at terrifying angles, and, as huge valleys appeared beiow, the ship, with sickening speed, descended, the skj- disappeared from view or the horizon staggered wildly about at impossible angles. As the grey’ coast loomed nearer the northern entrance to Pegasus became visible. Awe-inspiring seas thundered along the cliffs, sending showers of foam to incredible heights. Tacking for the entrance was just one more thrill. The boom wept across with murderous speed, and the sails, slacking, rattled and roared with the whipping cordage. As they filled again the ship heeled over, forcing us to scramble hastily to safetj- on the lee side, up the steep, reeling wall that was the deck.

At last Whale Passage opened out into Pegasus the magnificent, with its islands and bays and its fantastic peaks, and here, weather worn, salt encrusted, and thankful, we eagerly- stepped ashore to face the mountains ahead, the wind-swept route of our return. * * * Adventure we sought, and, searching, like Ulysses we found it more alluring than the enchantments of the fatal Circe, most indescribable, more drugging than her richest wine. And so, too, may- others discover it, who . . . hear like ocean on a western beach The surge and thunder of the Odyssey.