It dawned on me as I was writing my latest New Zealand post that I should write a post celebrating New England and upstate New York hiking. But more importantly as I get ready to do a 5-day backpacking New Zealand walk, I am thinking about my wonderful lifelong friends and our priceless annual Adirondack hiking trips.
Here are some photos from this year's trip.
Hiking Jay Mountain, October 14, 2017
I wonder if I've spelled that right. As a warm-up for our Heaphy Track adventure, Marg, Simon and I walked the Escarpment Track, which is one section of the Te Araroa Trail System. We left the car at the Pukerua Bay train station and started walking the 10km, easy, well-maintained trail.
Easy soon turned into the steepest hill I've ever walked. Close to 1300 stairs, up and down (counted by my scientist friends) and two swinging bridges to a spectacular lookout over Kapiti Island. It was fun to view Kapiti from the mainland side. We sailed by the outer side of Kapiti this spring; the seas were much rougher.
When we weren't climbing stairs, we were walking narrow footpaths barely wide enough to let others pass, and a drop straight down to the railroad tracks and road way, way below. Although the trail is rated as an easy tramping track, they do warn that it is not for people with vertigo or heart conditions or children who might fall backwards.
The track finished 1km from the little town of Paekakariki. I told Marg and Simon that our tradition is to stop for a beer after a hike. They humored me by indulging in a Tuatara moo lah chocolate milk stout at Finn's Cafe before catching the train back to our car.
About 1/3 of the way up, a swinging bridge. The old rail tunnel is below and the road way below that.
The Lookout, the only part of the track more than 2' wide.
It's winter in Takaka. Mornings are occasionally frosty, followed by warm sunshine.
Frost on the persimmon.
It's feijoa season. Each morning, I go out to the orchard, shake the feijoa trees, and collect the fruit that drops to the ground. The first big harvest was used for pressing wine. Pete has part of an apple press, built the rest, and improvises the rest with his truck jack. I'll have to come back in a few months to taste the results.
Write here...
The rest of the feijoas that we collect will be dehydrated. Remind me to share them with you. Maybe I can figure out a way to bring back some fresh fruit...
Being back in Golden Bay is like going through some sort of portal. I'm physically about as far from Vermont as I can be, yet I am so at home. People on the north island will tell you Golden Bay is where all the hippies are.
Pete and I spent another week at Patarau. Southwesterlies here usually bring an arctic chill and high winds. We got the winds, and crazy rough seas after a couple of fun surfing days. High winds made the most beautiful patterns with rocks and sand, a constantly changing landscape.
Pete and his surfboard
It was so windy on the beach it was hard to walk.
A change in the weather.
Viani Bay, on the southeast end of the island of Vanua Levu, is a great anchorage spot due to its proximity to Rainbow Reef, one of the best reefs in the world for seeing soft corals. There isn't any village with a chief here, just a smattering of small houses, family compounds. It's easy to find great dive photos of the reef, but I thought I'd post other images of Fiji, ones that you might only capture from a sailboat.
A flower from the vutu tree floated past me as I was kayaking to shore. It was easy for me to remember vutu because it rhymes with tutu. Floating, fragrant ballerinas.
Little wild goats on Matagi Island. It would be acceptable, even appreciated, if you catch them and eat them! Catching a photo image is enough for me.
A cone shell on the beach. Live cone shells in the water can kill you with a paralyzing needle sting from the narrow tip.
A young mangrove tree at the edge of reef in Viani Bay. You can see a modest native house on the other side of the bay.
Most likely, this is a vacation house owned by a foreigner.
Rainbow Reef extends for miles. We are traveling in a 38 foot catamaran with shallow draft and a brave captain. The water depth goes from 50 meters to boat smashing rocks just below the surface in an instant. You get some hint from the change in water color, but navigating with Google Earth works even better.
A sketch of the tree before I knew it's Fijian name.
A sketch while underway from NZ.
Celebratory meal upon arrival in Fiji.
Time, outside of the present moment, is an illusion. I have to keep a daily journal noting date and day of the week to keep track. Two days ago, after stopping to snorkel at a section of Rainbow Reef, where the water was calm and crytal clear, we anchored in Honeymoon Bay. There's an exclusive resort, aptly named Remote Resort, owned by Australians, catering to Americans. The menu prices are in U.S. dollars, at U.S. prices. It was fun to walk up and over the hill to have a drink. I figure if I take photos of eco lodges, the trip is a tax write-off.
Sunset at the Remote Resort
Inside for an entree at the Remote Resort restaurant. Ventilation and views into the kitchen are slices of concrete culvert.
Yesterday, we had an awesome sail to Matagi Bay, a privately owned island with an even more exclusive resort. Maybe, if we dress up, they'll let us come ashore for dinner. Our anchorage is on the opposite side of the island from the resort buildings, so we have complete privacy.
I made this cool discovery. I found that the shadow of my kayak paddle eliminates the reflections on the water so I can take reef photos. This section of reef was severely damaged in last year's cyclone, but it's coming back.
When the rain stops and the sun comes back, I'll borrow an underwater camera.
The next several days will be spent sailing east from Savusavu, stopping at Rainbow Reef and bays where we are the only boat, a big advantage of getting to Fiji early in the season.
We provisioned at the local market. I stopped to buy more papaya from a lovely Fijian woman, Olivia, that I met the day before. I had bought plantains from her and described the way I cook them with cinnamon and sugar. Yes, the same for her. "See those banan over there? Try one. Now, go back and take the bunch. Now take this po po and three limes. No, I don't want any money. Cook them up and share with your friends". Aah, Fiji. I have enough plantains and papaya for the whole week.
On Friday, we sailed to Fawn Harbor, a lovely protected harbor with some sort of plantation at one end, and surrounded by mangrove. I motored the boat through the cut in the reef to our anchorage spot.
Somewhere in the mess ahead is an opening. How would you do this without a chartplotter?
The air even on the water is so heavily scented with sweet flowers as to be distracting. Once we were settled in, I rowed the dinghy to the quickly disappearing shoal and mangrove island. The little island was ringed by coral reef, just about popping out of the water. A small fishing boat motored by and I waved them over to see if I could buy some fish. "Bula, Bula! My name is David." Lots of hand shaking, big Fijian smiles. "My name is Carol, can I buy some fish?" David holds up a beautiful jack fish and hands it to me. He won't take anything for it. I brought the fish back to the boat, fileted it and we had enough fish for two meals. Vinaka, David.
The little island surrounded by mangroves. I think this is a rain tree.
Local fishermen at Fawn Bay.
The next leg of my journey took me back to Bay of Islands to sail on a Lagoon 38 catamaran named Green Duck. Ludger is the owner, an accomplished sailor, having spent the last five years sailing from Germany, including sailing through the channels by Cape Horn instead of sailing through the Panama Canal. Another German woman, Elke, is also on board.
On April 15, we set sail from Opua, destination Fiji, specifically Savusavu Bay on the island of Vanua Levu, 1300 miles due north. We arrived 10 days later, without any catastrophes or inclement weather. Beginning of May is considered the end of cyclone season, but we saw a good weather window and decided to take a chance. As a result, we were one of the first international boats to arrive to Savusavu.
Entering Savusavu Harbor.
When you arrive by boat to a new country, you have to go through customs, which means you have to go to a port that has a customs office. Savusavu is a small town with incredibly friendly, helpful locals. When you call Waitui Marina on the vhf radio, Jolene sends a boat out to meet you at the mooring to hand you the mooring line. Shortly after, another boat comes out to greet you, this time with immigration, biosecurity, health, and customs officers with lots of paperwork to complete. We arrived at our mooring around 3 in the afternoon, getting to be the end of the day in Fiji. Right after this group boarded, the clouds burst with rain, so after we finished our business, we all sat around drinking coffee and eating cookies.
Officials heading to shore after completing our customs clearance, always smiling.
Savusavu is a curious place, one street with unpretentious stores selling a seemingly random variety of stuff predominantly owned by Indians. There is a daily outdoor market with a mix of Fijians and Indians selling fresh produce, kava kava, fish, eggs, spices, noni juice in reused plastic bottles.
Fruit bats living on the island by our mooring. They are as big as ravens and there were dozens of them all taking flight in late afternoon.
At night, locals use these bamboo boats to fish by lamp. They shine a light in the water to attract fish and catch them with nets or poles.
Joline's adorable children.
This boat showed up yesterday afternoon. A Frenchman single handed the 36' boat from Panama without stopping, for four months.
My dear friend Pete, who I sailed with from Tonga to New Zealand four years ago, invited me to spend some time with him in Golden Bay on the South Island before I head north again to sail to Fiji. Pete lives off-the-grid in a jungle forest surrounded by National Park land. Very isolated, very quiet and beautiful. All his electricity and hot water are generated by a turbine in the fast-flowing stream behind the house. Composting toilet, outdoor hot shower and bathtub, the house, including furniture, all hand-built by Pete from trees grown and milled on his land. We had lots of fun talking about construction details for a planned addition.
From Takaka, we headed to his Patarau ocean home on the west coast. Most of the time, this surfer's paradise is a vacation rental, but we had use of it for three days between renters. It took all my willpower to leave the thousands of gorgeous rocks on the beach. I decided to take rock photos instead that I'll use as inspiration for a series of abstract paintings.
View from Pete's deck
The shower and bathtub are outdoors, sheltered by the trisail from Pete's sailboat.
Sunset at Patarau.
The waves were not great for surfing, but were perfect for sea kayak-surfing. Incredibly fun!
Patarau rock. I swear I didn't alter this image.
I've arrived in Plimmerton, NZ, just outside of Wellington, after several days of sailing with new friends, Marg and Simon on their Rustler 42. This was the last leg of a 1 1/2 year trip from the U.K. We sailed from Opua in the Bay of Islands, up around Cape Reinga, and down the west coast of the North Island.
Sailing the Tasman Sea is a tricky way to go because there basically are no stopping points on the west coast. We had a perfect tail wind and several days of gorgeous sailing. The problem was that we went too fast and came around the southwest before the gale had a chance to move through.
We hugged the shoreline overnight, traveling up and down, to avoid the worst of the strong winds and rough seas. In the early morning, we resumed our travels south, passing the volcanic island of Kaputi.
When we reached Mana Island, our destination, we were escorted by playful dolphins. We are now safely at dock, greeted by Marg's family with a bottle of champagne. Thank you both for a wonderful, memorable trip!
Mare's tails and fish scales, expect a gale.
Being followed by an albatross off Kapupti
I had to tether myself to the boat to keep from jumping in with them.
Back on land. (at least for a week or two)
There's a beautiful walking trail from Opua to Paihia, maybe 8 km along the water. There's this one section where enormous tree branches loom across the path and rest on the ground by the ocean. You have to duck to get under. I have no idea just how ancient this tree might be, but I'm so happy the branches weren't cut to make the path more accessible.
There was a rainbow so big and close this morning that I have to post a photo of each end. Let's hope it brings me double luck. Happy St. Patrick's Day, in memory of my Irish mum, Agnes Dorothea Welch! There are some Irish folks in Opua that will lead Irish singing tonight. Belfast is on my mind today.
Yesterday, I spent the day sailing on Gungha II, a 65-foot steel-hull, hard-chine sloop. When I sailed to New Zealand from Tonga in 2012, it was on Gungha, the boat previously owned by Mike and Deb that they sold to Pete, who lives on the South Island. A photo of Gungha hangs in the salon of Gungha II.
The sailing here is so exquisite. Secluded harbors, turquoise waters, stingrays, playful dolphins...one could easily spend an entire season exploring this bay.
Waewaetorea Island is predator-free. You can go ashore and hike the narrow grassy trails, but you have to go barefoot.
A nice swim to and from the boat. That's Gungha II on the left.
Mike, the captain of Gungha II. Thanks for a lovely day!
Somewhere around 12 knots of boat speed. Pretty fast for a monohull.
Back on land in Paihia.
Only an architect would travel half way round the world to visit a toilet. Hundertwasser speaks to me with his quirky organic shapes and colors. He enlisted help of the locals to build this and his influence is visible all through town (all of 3 blocks).
We rode bicycles on a rail trail from Opua to Kawa Kawa, 12k each way. With all the rain we've had, the path was under waist-high water about half way through which meant we had to tackle the NZ hills, no shoulder to speak of and traffic going 100kmh. But people here are so nice. On my way back to Opua, after coming off the biggest winding hill, there was a car parked and a woman standing by her car. She had stopped and waited for me to apologize for coming so close. Then she invited us to her house for dinner. Kind of like Belfast, Maine, except you can grow avocados here.
Hundertwasser's public toilets
concrete couch, entrance to sculpture maze behind it
A sketch of the bike trail near Opua.
This afternoon after I replaced the gasket on the icebox, we rode the ferry to Russell. The town is a few kilometers from the ferry dock, but you could hardly ride a ferry without finding someone who will give you a lift. It's a tiny little town with a lot of personality. The living wall serves as the entrance to an indoor/outdoor cafe.
Entrance to Kawa Kawa Toilets
It's hard to catch any photos between the raindrops these last couple of days. I landed in Auckland Thursday morning and took a bus to Opua where the boat is moored, in the Bay of Islands. One of the stops is at the Kawa Kawa Toilets. The Austrian architect, Hundertwasser, moved to Kawa Kawa in the 1970's. The toilets created so much interest that it brought Kawa Kawa on the map with a bit of a boost to the local economy. As soon as this front blows over, I'll enjoy a nice bike ride to get a better look.
COFFEE, JUICE AND MUCH MORE
My travelabout starts in San Francisco Airport. Waiting for my red eye flight to New Zealand, I realize and appreciate good, positive changes happening in the world. For dinner, I had organic beetroot, carrot and ginger juice, freshly juiced by delightful people. An avocado, mozzarella, tomato pesto grilled sandwich. The bread was more like a grilled lavash. Salty, delicious.
For part of my tip, I offered David Lynch's book, Catching the Big Fish that I just finished. One of the young men behind the counter was so excited about receiving this as a gift, he asked me to inscribe it. "You never know what change this could lead to." When he finished work, he came over to my table to shake my hand and tell me how nice it is to meet me. "Are you on social media, instagram...?" Maybe it's time to join that world for the serendipity of it all. What a beautiful soul.
The serendipity of my choosing this book to read when I decided that I want to focus more energy on meditation and yoga. David Lynch has a foundation that supports TM in schools, homeless shelters and prisons. Where might this lead me?
Please watch this sweet little video that explains the Passive House (Passivhaus) building principles. https://vimeo.com/74294955. Thank you, and please contact me with questions.