“THE ROUND TRIP”

Taranaki Daily News, 20 July 1935, Page 1 (Supplement)

“THE ROUND TRIP”

DOUBTFUL SOUND

(By H.K.S.) (No. II.)

A walk along the western shore of

the lake brings one to the huts which are also named after the goddess. Bushmen have been busy this summer pitsawing timber for the construction of a permanent camp in this charming spot which is almost on the bush-line. On the third day the bush is left behind as the climb over the Fowler Saddle is made. Although this is 3500 feet in height the going is never difficult. Not long after leaving the Minerva hut Lake Turaki, probably the most beautiful of the trio, comes into view below a bluff, with the surrounding peaks reflected in its pellucid depths and with its inlet looking enchanting in the warm sunlight. The climb to the top of the saddle is not arduous from the Manapouri side but there is a steep descent down a natural rock chimney. Before one steps off the roof of the stony edifice one is sure to pause to admire the endless succession of peaks which stretch towards the coast and to look back on the lakes which nestle among the mountains to the east. Then into the chimney where hands as well as feet play their part and where it is sometimes even necessary to sit on one's dignity.

A couple of hundred feet from the top a large rock has. been so displaced in the chimney;as to form with the precipitous side of the mountain a manhole through which the traveller must pass. It is too narrow to permit the retention of a pack and one shudders to think what would be the fate of a twenty stone tourist who attempted to squeeze his bulk through the aperture. Gelignite would no doubt release him from his prison, not to mention the cares of this world.

Emerging from the chimney one steps on a fragrant hearth of native plants in infinite variety. For a botanist it would be "paradise enow”; for anyone it is a garden of Eden free from the wiles of Eve and ’ the susceptibility of Adam. The scent of sage and thyme arises .as hob-nails crush the aromatic leaves; daisies and lilies bob their dainty heads in the breeze.

At the 3000 feet level the bush is reentered and the noise of rushing water is again herd, for the Turaki hurries down the valley to join the Camelot. After a steady descent one enters a fairy land of fernS, ranging from lofty pongas to delicate filmy ferns. The trees are covered with the moss of ages, this giving them a resemblance to bearded patriarchs. Golden shafts of light pierce the upper foliage and give lustre to the dark green leaves of the beeches and the lighter coloured fron ( ds of the ferns. '

About nine miles from Minerva are the Bedivere huts where a halt is made for the night. These are stout structures built principally from “bungeys” or tree fem stems. On the western side of the mess-hut are real windows through'which are to be seen the Bedivere Falls, a Y-shaped cataract which after rain is most impressive. It is refreshing to find names which Tennyson has made familiar to all being bestowed upon features in this remote region but one cannot help wondering why it is the bold Sir Bedivere and not the Lady of Shalott who looks down to Camelot. However, Bedivere is a much more euphonious name than Shalott which has rather an oniony flavour. One of the wekas frequenting the hut should be christened Bedivere, for he is bold enough for anything, taking boots away from their drying place by the fire and commiting arson with pyjamas. After an invigorating sleep in a skyblue sleeping bag on a bed of fem leaves one sets out on an easy and pleasant five mile walk along the Camelot to Gear Arm where the launch is waiting to convey passengers from this corner of Bradshaw Sound to the extremity of Doubtful Sound, Deep Cove. It is rather hard at first to realise that one is travelling through salt, and not fresh water, for the surroundings are very like those on Manapouri, though the bush-clad mountains are steeper.

“Here they come” announced the gifide after the launch has been running for about half an hour. In many places the surface of the, water is broken as giant fish leap and gambol, with their heads invariably pointed towards the boat. They are large dolphins, familiarly known as blackfish, which delight in escorting the launch for five or six miles down the Sound. Though they are probably dangerous and voracious animals they seem to be solely out for a game as they cavort near the boat. It is well worth while to walk along the side jof the launch and stand at the bow below which scores of the big fish are enjoying a game of follow the leader. It seems as if they were anxious to scrape their sides against those of the boat, each one angling for' the inside berth, but the contact they make is very light, though a passenger in a row-boat might have an adventurous trip. Those fish which scorn to act as a guard of honour remain at some distance from the launch arching their backs out just as do tarpon. If deep sea fishermen could induce them to take bait some exhilarating sport should be enjoyed. As if acting from instructions of their commanding officer they fall out of line and take leave of the launch with dazzling leaps. In Doubtful Sound another school goes through similar evolutions.

A pastime indulged in by all who visit the Sounds under the aegis of Mr. Murrell is sea fishing. So deep is the water that it is necessary to drop the lines j very close to the shore, the eastern end of Secretary Island usually being chosen as the most suitable spot. No sooner is the line down than a vigorous tug is felt and if the angler is adept at striking he will find that a blue cod, a prettier but less edible soldier fish or a despised “Jock Stewart” is a prisoner. There are no dull moments and it is on. the cards that a shark may be lured on the hook—and maybe off the hook after his tailthreshing has firmly wound the line round that appendage. In the cool of the evening Deep Cove is reached after a never-to-be-forgotten call at Hall’s Arm which rivals Milford in grandeur. Had tire slump not come Deep Cove might now have been the headquarters of a vast nitrate-fixation scheme and a port of considerable importance. The Helena Falls, 800 feet in height, which now delight the tourist’s eye, would hive served a more utilitarian purpose in providing electricity. The hut at Deep Cove is commodious and comfortable and is a happy meeting place for people from various parts of the world who are “doing” the track or the first stage of it. Not the least enjoyable part of such walks is the camaraderie of the holiday makers and the gay and inconsequential conversation which takes place round the log fires.

,(To be Continued.)