It was an eerie morning with the dense fog condensing and dripping off every surface in the forest. As the sun rose higher the fog lingered, obscuring Iain as he hiked ahead of me on the trail. We crested hills and hiked at the edge of the tree line a number of times but all we saw was a brilliant white world at the edge of the forest. We hiked for hours in a saturated backlit world with the flitting shadows of fantails escorting us back down to the sea.
We made it down to a beautiful white sand beach with pounding surf. Iain had been admiring the swell as it became visible through the manuka trees. We strolled along the water line enjoying the breeze and the sunshine…Iain daydreaming about his surfboard. At the far end of the beach we climbed up into the dunes to a grassy plateau and enjoyed a leisurely lunch with Emma and Jenni who had left a little ahead of us in the morning.
The last few hours of the day were touted to be the hardest of the hike. There was a push up over a small headland that separated the beach we were currently on from Mason’s Bay. The headland was almost 400m up and the trail was steep both up and down, DOC didn’t believe in switchbacks. To compound maters there was a section of Masons Bay that had to be hiked at low tide so we had to finish the steep section in less than three hours.
We climbed up steadily using the roots as ladders and crawling in the mud where necessary. I was thoroughly impressed with our progress when we made it to the top and after a brief rest we were ready to tackle the hill in reverse. The trip down was far more treacherous than the trip uphill. Our packs kept us from tumbling head first down the trail but we both slipped and slid repeatedly. There were a few spots where someone had laid ropes down the track for safety, we both laughed at the gesture feeling it was futile in light of all the areas that didn’t have them.
We crossed onto the 14kms of Masons Bay after a rest at the creek that marked the division between the bottom of the hill and the beach. We both washed the worst of the mud off our boots then headed towards the rising tide line. The beach started out rocky at the creek outflow but quickly became a long sandy crescent. The packed sand proved to be the hardest part of the day. Our bodies and feet had become accustomed to the soft springy soil or sucking mud of the trail, hiking on the beach was like pounding along a 14km stretch of golden pavement. We stopped occasionally, watching the Gannets or Oystercatchers playing in the waves and finally about two thirds of the way along the beach we spotted the track to Mason’s Bay hut.
There was a well established truck track along the creek leading up to the hut. The DOC officers had a pretty steady presence in the area and used the old Mason’s Bay homestead as a base for trail maintenance equipment and staff bunks. There were a myriad of crisscrossing trails through the sand dunes and we passed a number of couples strolling to and from the hut looking at the kiwi tracks in the sand. We had seen a small plane earlier in the day, it turned out it was delivering the overnight tourists to Mason’s Bay. These people would fly in for the night, try to spot a kiwi or two and either fly back to Invercargill the next day or hike to Freshwater hut and take the water taxi to Halfmoon Bay. The hut was huge, 24 person capacity, and it was close to full that night. The eager kiwi hunters were not impressed with the nocturnal habits of the birds. The different groups headed out to the dunes near sunset and returned shortly after dark, most of them never saw a bird.
Iain and I sat and chatted with a Kiwi couple who had lived in Abbotsford for a few years on a work exchange. They had traveled all over Canada while they had lived there and we swapped stories about traveling and living in the two countries. We all agreed that camping in New Zealand was much simpler than in Canada, the possum is not nearly as fearsome as the bear!
The group that had arrived on the flight brought the weather report with them from Invercargill. A severe weather system was moving from Australia across the Tasman Sea and they were predicting heavy rains for Stewart Island over the next week. Iain and I had carried food for 15 days as we had planned on finishing the Northern Circuit up to Mason’s Bay and then hiking an additional 6 days on the Southern Circuit back to Halfmoon Bay. The problem was the Southern Circuit was very prone to flooding with light rain; people were frequently stranded for up to five days at the huts during heavy rain. After hearing the weather report we decided not to risk running out of food on the trail and leave the Southern circuit for another year.
We headed to bed shortly after dark, listening to the symphony of snoring all around us I was very grateful for my earplugs as I snuggled into my bunk. I was disappointed to not be finishing both circuits, but knowing I was going to be enjoying hot, fresh food in two more days made for sweet dreams!
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