Stewart Island Part II - Hiking Into the Forest
Right, planning for Australia took a little bit longer than expected, but I’ve finally managed to put together Day Two of Stewart Island. This will be a bit shorter than my other posts in terms of actual writing mostly because of the amount of walking involved. Luckily, the weather continued to hold for me, and I was able to take the day to explore a bit more outside of town. Mirva and I were put in separate rooms at Stewart Island Backpackers, so I didn’t get to see her off in the morning, but I probably wouldn’t have been able to anyway since she needed to be on the boat by eight o’ clock. So she left early in the morning on the ferry, leaving me free to do whatever I wanted for two whole days. It was sad to see her go, but it was also exciting to be on my own again, for the first time in quite a while.
The first order of business was to move all of my things from Stewart Island Backpackers to Bunker’s Backpackers down the road. Just like everything else in Oban, it was just next door, so it only required getting all of my stuff together and trekking uphill for two minutes. Bunker’s was just a gorgeous place to stay. A nice couple owns it - he runs the sea kayaking on the side and she manages the accounts for a few other businesses as well- and they were very welcoming to me. The main perk that I was looking for was the free wi-fi, but it was warm and cozy as well. It kind of reminded me of visiting grandma’s house (Well, in theory - my remaining grandmother is not so… kosher) in the style of a big, yellow country cottage with lots of old-fashioned furniture and wallpaper. They showed me to a spacious, sun-lit room right in the front, looking out at the flower garden, and I made myself at home in the small dorm there. They also a nice communal kitchen, lounge/library, and back deck overlooking the ocean. Overall, the whole vibe at Bunkers was very chill and relaxing. The cleaning girl was a fun, Scottish girl who was very easy to bond with, and I even managed to have a prolonged conversation with my Japanese roommate…in Japanese. Yay for repetition and linguistic memory! Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hang around the backpackers for very long during my stay because I spent most of my days hiking around, but during the evenings, I was able to catch up on my emails and watch movies in the lounge. The cleaner girl (sorry, I’m blanking on the name) introduced me to the marvelous British film The Boat That Rocked, so that was an added bonus.
Bunker's Backpackers from the front and from my room
After getting checked into Bunker’s and having a few chat sessions with fellow travelers, I decided to get going on my plans for the day, before it got too late. I had asked the woman at the information center the day before about recommended day trails around Oban, and I had zeroed in on three walks in particular: Fern Gully, Ryan’s Creek, and Deep Bay. I admit that I only chose Fern Gully out of nostalgia for my childhood, but the other two just happened to be in the same area, so it seemed logical to hit all three at once. They were all in the northwestern direction, past Observation Rock and Golden Bay, so I just retraced my steps from the day before. According to the official pamphlet, the Fern Gully track, "...follows an old sawmill track winding along a stream, with a variety of beautiful ferns and cutover forest. At the end of that track, there is a clearing where a welcome seat gives you a good opportunity to enjoy the birds and bush." That sounded like a promising start and was only a two-hour return from town, so I decided to try that one first. The old dirt road - literally called "Back Road" - went past Rakiura Helicopters as well, Stewart Island's major airport for connecting to the mainland. I also noticed that someone had abandoned a perfectly good motorcycle just along the path with the keys still in the ignition. It was...tempting.
Heading out towards Fern Gully and spying Stewart Island's airport
I think the best part about that particular morning - aside from the surprisingly good weather and amazing scenery - had to be the freedom to take my time doing whatever I wanted. After being on the Stray bus for so long, it was nice to be able to stay in one spot and chill for a while. Even though there were plenty of nature stops on the trip and plenty of friends to enjoy it with, there was always a sense of being rushed and sticking to a schedule to be somewhere else soon. Stewart Island was just the cure I needed to slow down and get some alone time. True to its name, the path leading out to Fern Gully was abundant in the fern and water department. A bubbling creek on my right continued gurgling along the entire way, and I ended up crossing it at several points throughout the day. When I got to the actual trail marker separating it from the other walking tracks, I had to briefly climb a wooden divider, and then it was smooth sailing from there.
The road leading to Fern Gully
I think the best adjective I could use to describe that particular walk would be leafy, though "green" and "moist" would definitely be in the running as well. Fortunately, it was not nearly as muddy as I had first feared, and I was able to amble comfortably on without losing a shoe to the sludge. Apparently that's a big problem during the wet season, and a lot of people who do the big three- or ten-day hikes end up coming back looking more like the Creature From the Black Lagoon than regular backpackers. During my time there, there was actually a warning in place for Mason Bay, an area on the other side of the island that gets regularly flooded by the mouth of the Peterson Inlet. Nevertheless, there was an overpoweringly strong smell of earth and moss wherever I went.
Pretty ferns down by the water
Another cool thing about the walk was the gentle breeze blowing through the trees. That's a pretty cool sound all by itself (see: Robert Frost poems), but the presence of all the ferns made it especially noteworthy because they're so thin and light-weight. Just the faintest gust of air made them flutter and sway, and that's a pretty spectacular thing to see when there are literally hundreds of ferns on either side of you. Kind of like a rippling tide of green ghosting along the path. While I was out there, I didn't run into one other person, so you can just imagine how still and quiet it was in the absence of people. I did manage to spot a stray deer once in a clearing (which confused me because I thought they had been banned from the island), but it bounded off before I could get too close.
Ferns...for a change
I walked along for about an hour and a half before reaching the end of the track. The ferns and creek gave way to a wide, spacious meadow, and I was more than happy to take a lunch break on the bench there. I had bought a pre-made ham sandwich at the general store that morning, so I dug into that and a few other snacks while I was there. I guess that area is a nice congregating spot for local birds, because they were all over the place. I wasn't quick enough to catch all of them on camera, but they definitely weren't shy. The one I was most desperate to catch was the New Zealand pigeon just because their wings are incredibly loud and make a distinct whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound when they're nearby. Think of the sound of a boomerang slicing through the air. I kept hearing them flying around in the trees, but they were always gone before I could get a mark on them. Oh well. I did manage to photograph one while on Ulva Island, so you guys will get to see what they look like in the next post. I stayed at that particular meadow for at least half an hour, hoping to spot some rare wildlife, but after a while, I had to concede temporary defeat and retrace my steps back to the beginning.
The meadow near the Seat of Seeing
While we're on the subject, however, I might as well introduce you guys to two of the more common birds of New Zealand. The first is the Tui, made infamous by Tui beer and the story about how the kiwi bird lost its wings. Basically, the story goes that Tanemahuta, one of the Maori gods, was walking through a forest one day and noticed that the trees were starting to rot because all of the bugs were eating them. He called all of the birds together for a meeting and said that he needed one of them to give up the sky and live on the ground eating bugs, thereby protecting the trees and forest for the good of the community. He turned to Tui first, but Tui chickened out by saying it was dark on the ground and that he was afraid of the dark. Next, the god turned to Pukeko (think of a little blue chicken), but Pukeko said that the ground was damp and that he didn't want to get his feet wet. Finally, the god turned to Pipiwharauroa (literally, "the shining cuckoo," which has a sort of whistling song), but Pipiwharauroa said he was busy building a nest for his family. When no one else spoke up, the little kiwi bird stepped forward and offered to sacrifice his wings. The god was proud of him and gave him thick, strong legs for running and ripping up roots, and the kiwi lost his beautiful colors to blend in with the shadows. Then, the god turned to the other birds who had refused his request and punished each one in turn. Tui, who had been too afraid, was given two white features to wear on his throat as the mark of the coward. Pukeko, who didn't want to get wet, was banished to the swamp. And Pipiwharauroa, who was too busy with his nest, was doomed to never build his own nest again - forced to put his eggs in the nests of other birds forever. So that's the basis of the myth. As stories go, it's a pretty cute one, if a little bit sad, so I thought I'd include it.
Anyway, so the Tui is a big, black bird with two very distinct white tuffs under its chin. You can definitely hear them from a mile away once you know what they sound like. They're bloody chatty. Seriously , they never shut up. They're like the Chris Tuckers of the animal kingdom. Aside from their appearance and chatter, however, Tui's are well-known in New Zealand for the Tui brand beer, which has a humorous marketing campaign attached to it. The official slogan, I believe, is, "Distracting the boys from the task at hand since 1889." Basically, all Tui ads contain some sort of phrase or fact that is so dubious in nature that it has to be accompanied by the phrase, "Yeah right." For example, "I came on the Tour to see how the beer's made," or "One nut, seven Tour de France, no steroids." Some of them are quite amusing. I've included a few pictures - the first one is from Google, but the other two were taken on Stewart Island by me.
The Tui in all its glory, both real and fictional
The other super-common bird I'll talk about here is the Fantail. Don't worry, this one doesn't require a long Maori legend to understand. It's pretty much a super-hyperactive bird...with a tail shaped like a fan. They flit around all over the place, and it's practically impossible to catch them on camera since they move around so much. They are constantly in motion, but not in the way that most birds fly around in a linear motion. They kind of...spiral around like falling leaves or blinded insects with no apparent sense of direction, and even when they are perched in trees, they're constantly rocking back and forth in a side-to-side motion, literally shaking their tail feathers. I've had a few nearly kamikaze straight into my face because they don't care about humans and will get right up next to you. One nearly caused my death during the LOtR tour in Wellington because I was leaning over the edge of a canyon when one flew right past my cheek, freaking the heck out me. It's a good thing they're terribly cute. Again, the first pic is from Google, and the rest are mine.
The fantail. Pictures don't do its flightiness justice.
Okay, enough about birds for now. There will be plenty of that in the next post, believe me, because Stewart Island is mostly known as a wildlife sanctuary. I thought I'd try and space it out a bit, though, so that I don't have thirty birds to cover next time. Onwards! I left the meadow by early afternoon and started back the same way along the Fern Gully route. My original goal for the day had included that trail and possibly one other medium-sized track if I had the energy, so I decided to swing out towards Ryan's Creek as well. Just like Fern Gully, it was aptly named because it followed...a creek. It starts out in the forest and then cuts over to an estuary, where an old sawmill used to be. I'm not really sure who "Ryan" was - probably one of the early settlers, I imagine. It's supposed to be 3-4 hours round trip from the town, so I figured that would get me back to the hostel by dinnertime.
Heading out along Ryan's Creek
This was another great walk for the afternoon. Again, I was the only person in sight and had the entire place to myself. The forest to the left was dark, overgrown, and filled with bird song, and the water on my right was amazingly clear. It eventually opened up into the ocean, so what started out as a quiet country trail gradually became a coastal walk back to town. I held out a very small hope of running into a kiwi bird out there even though it was the middle of the day because it was likely to be the furthest from town I was going to get, but, unsurprisingly, they stayed hidden. Most of the afternoon was spent silently trekking along the shoreline and taking the occasional photo, so I don't have much else to report about Ryan's Creek. I was pretty tired by 2/3 of the way back, so I left any other walking for another day. I had considered continuing on to Deep Bay, but the sun was getting a bit low, so I didn't want to chance being out after dark.
Sweeping along the coast and then back to camp
I cheerfully returned back to Bunker's for a quiet night in with my new-found friends and watched a couple of movies with them. I made immediate use of the free wi-fi to check emails and take care of some business because free hotspots are incredibly rare in New Zealand. I had no idea how easy it would be to find one in the next stop. And that was pretty much it for that day. I got all of my things ready the night before and made sure to brush up on my New Zealand bird lore because the next day, I was going to Ulva Island, one of the last preserved havens for native species in the country. I wanted to be fully-rested for that, so I crawled into bed to the sound of the kakas outside and drifted off to sleep. Thanks for sticking with me for the incredibly slow update, guys! I'll try to get Ulva Island posted ASAP. Cheers!
Another shot of the water at twilight
The first order of business was to move all of my things from Stewart Island Backpackers to Bunker’s Backpackers down the road. Just like everything else in Oban, it was just next door, so it only required getting all of my stuff together and trekking uphill for two minutes. Bunker’s was just a gorgeous place to stay. A nice couple owns it - he runs the sea kayaking on the side and she manages the accounts for a few other businesses as well- and they were very welcoming to me. The main perk that I was looking for was the free wi-fi, but it was warm and cozy as well. It kind of reminded me of visiting grandma’s house (Well, in theory - my remaining grandmother is not so… kosher) in the style of a big, yellow country cottage with lots of old-fashioned furniture and wallpaper. They showed me to a spacious, sun-lit room right in the front, looking out at the flower garden, and I made myself at home in the small dorm there. They also a nice communal kitchen, lounge/library, and back deck overlooking the ocean. Overall, the whole vibe at Bunkers was very chill and relaxing. The cleaning girl was a fun, Scottish girl who was very easy to bond with, and I even managed to have a prolonged conversation with my Japanese roommate…in Japanese. Yay for repetition and linguistic memory! Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hang around the backpackers for very long during my stay because I spent most of my days hiking around, but during the evenings, I was able to catch up on my emails and watch movies in the lounge. The cleaner girl (sorry, I’m blanking on the name) introduced me to the marvelous British film The Boat That Rocked, so that was an added bonus.
Bunker's Backpackers from the front and from my room
After getting checked into Bunker’s and having a few chat sessions with fellow travelers, I decided to get going on my plans for the day, before it got too late. I had asked the woman at the information center the day before about recommended day trails around Oban, and I had zeroed in on three walks in particular: Fern Gully, Ryan’s Creek, and Deep Bay. I admit that I only chose Fern Gully out of nostalgia for my childhood, but the other two just happened to be in the same area, so it seemed logical to hit all three at once. They were all in the northwestern direction, past Observation Rock and Golden Bay, so I just retraced my steps from the day before. According to the official pamphlet, the Fern Gully track, "...follows an old sawmill track winding along a stream, with a variety of beautiful ferns and cutover forest. At the end of that track, there is a clearing where a welcome seat gives you a good opportunity to enjoy the birds and bush." That sounded like a promising start and was only a two-hour return from town, so I decided to try that one first. The old dirt road - literally called "Back Road" - went past Rakiura Helicopters as well, Stewart Island's major airport for connecting to the mainland. I also noticed that someone had abandoned a perfectly good motorcycle just along the path with the keys still in the ignition. It was...tempting.
Heading out towards Fern Gully and spying Stewart Island's airport
I think the best part about that particular morning - aside from the surprisingly good weather and amazing scenery - had to be the freedom to take my time doing whatever I wanted. After being on the Stray bus for so long, it was nice to be able to stay in one spot and chill for a while. Even though there were plenty of nature stops on the trip and plenty of friends to enjoy it with, there was always a sense of being rushed and sticking to a schedule to be somewhere else soon. Stewart Island was just the cure I needed to slow down and get some alone time. True to its name, the path leading out to Fern Gully was abundant in the fern and water department. A bubbling creek on my right continued gurgling along the entire way, and I ended up crossing it at several points throughout the day. When I got to the actual trail marker separating it from the other walking tracks, I had to briefly climb a wooden divider, and then it was smooth sailing from there.
The road leading to Fern Gully
I think the best adjective I could use to describe that particular walk would be leafy, though "green" and "moist" would definitely be in the running as well. Fortunately, it was not nearly as muddy as I had first feared, and I was able to amble comfortably on without losing a shoe to the sludge. Apparently that's a big problem during the wet season, and a lot of people who do the big three- or ten-day hikes end up coming back looking more like the Creature From the Black Lagoon than regular backpackers. During my time there, there was actually a warning in place for Mason Bay, an area on the other side of the island that gets regularly flooded by the mouth of the Peterson Inlet. Nevertheless, there was an overpoweringly strong smell of earth and moss wherever I went.
Pretty ferns down by the water
Another cool thing about the walk was the gentle breeze blowing through the trees. That's a pretty cool sound all by itself (see: Robert Frost poems), but the presence of all the ferns made it especially noteworthy because they're so thin and light-weight. Just the faintest gust of air made them flutter and sway, and that's a pretty spectacular thing to see when there are literally hundreds of ferns on either side of you. Kind of like a rippling tide of green ghosting along the path. While I was out there, I didn't run into one other person, so you can just imagine how still and quiet it was in the absence of people. I did manage to spot a stray deer once in a clearing (which confused me because I thought they had been banned from the island), but it bounded off before I could get too close.
Ferns...for a change
I walked along for about an hour and a half before reaching the end of the track. The ferns and creek gave way to a wide, spacious meadow, and I was more than happy to take a lunch break on the bench there. I had bought a pre-made ham sandwich at the general store that morning, so I dug into that and a few other snacks while I was there. I guess that area is a nice congregating spot for local birds, because they were all over the place. I wasn't quick enough to catch all of them on camera, but they definitely weren't shy. The one I was most desperate to catch was the New Zealand pigeon just because their wings are incredibly loud and make a distinct whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sound when they're nearby. Think of the sound of a boomerang slicing through the air. I kept hearing them flying around in the trees, but they were always gone before I could get a mark on them. Oh well. I did manage to photograph one while on Ulva Island, so you guys will get to see what they look like in the next post. I stayed at that particular meadow for at least half an hour, hoping to spot some rare wildlife, but after a while, I had to concede temporary defeat and retrace my steps back to the beginning.
The meadow near the Seat of Seeing
While we're on the subject, however, I might as well introduce you guys to two of the more common birds of New Zealand. The first is the Tui, made infamous by Tui beer and the story about how the kiwi bird lost its wings. Basically, the story goes that Tanemahuta, one of the Maori gods, was walking through a forest one day and noticed that the trees were starting to rot because all of the bugs were eating them. He called all of the birds together for a meeting and said that he needed one of them to give up the sky and live on the ground eating bugs, thereby protecting the trees and forest for the good of the community. He turned to Tui first, but Tui chickened out by saying it was dark on the ground and that he was afraid of the dark. Next, the god turned to Pukeko (think of a little blue chicken), but Pukeko said that the ground was damp and that he didn't want to get his feet wet. Finally, the god turned to Pipiwharauroa (literally, "the shining cuckoo," which has a sort of whistling song), but Pipiwharauroa said he was busy building a nest for his family. When no one else spoke up, the little kiwi bird stepped forward and offered to sacrifice his wings. The god was proud of him and gave him thick, strong legs for running and ripping up roots, and the kiwi lost his beautiful colors to blend in with the shadows. Then, the god turned to the other birds who had refused his request and punished each one in turn. Tui, who had been too afraid, was given two white features to wear on his throat as the mark of the coward. Pukeko, who didn't want to get wet, was banished to the swamp. And Pipiwharauroa, who was too busy with his nest, was doomed to never build his own nest again - forced to put his eggs in the nests of other birds forever. So that's the basis of the myth. As stories go, it's a pretty cute one, if a little bit sad, so I thought I'd include it.
Anyway, so the Tui is a big, black bird with two very distinct white tuffs under its chin. You can definitely hear them from a mile away once you know what they sound like. They're bloody chatty. Seriously , they never shut up. They're like the Chris Tuckers of the animal kingdom. Aside from their appearance and chatter, however, Tui's are well-known in New Zealand for the Tui brand beer, which has a humorous marketing campaign attached to it. The official slogan, I believe, is, "Distracting the boys from the task at hand since 1889." Basically, all Tui ads contain some sort of phrase or fact that is so dubious in nature that it has to be accompanied by the phrase, "Yeah right." For example, "I came on the Tour to see how the beer's made," or "One nut, seven Tour de France, no steroids." Some of them are quite amusing. I've included a few pictures - the first one is from Google, but the other two were taken on Stewart Island by me.
The Tui in all its glory, both real and fictional
The other super-common bird I'll talk about here is the Fantail. Don't worry, this one doesn't require a long Maori legend to understand. It's pretty much a super-hyperactive bird...with a tail shaped like a fan. They flit around all over the place, and it's practically impossible to catch them on camera since they move around so much. They are constantly in motion, but not in the way that most birds fly around in a linear motion. They kind of...spiral around like falling leaves or blinded insects with no apparent sense of direction, and even when they are perched in trees, they're constantly rocking back and forth in a side-to-side motion, literally shaking their tail feathers. I've had a few nearly kamikaze straight into my face because they don't care about humans and will get right up next to you. One nearly caused my death during the LOtR tour in Wellington because I was leaning over the edge of a canyon when one flew right past my cheek, freaking the heck out me. It's a good thing they're terribly cute. Again, the first pic is from Google, and the rest are mine.
The fantail. Pictures don't do its flightiness justice.
Okay, enough about birds for now. There will be plenty of that in the next post, believe me, because Stewart Island is mostly known as a wildlife sanctuary. I thought I'd try and space it out a bit, though, so that I don't have thirty birds to cover next time. Onwards! I left the meadow by early afternoon and started back the same way along the Fern Gully route. My original goal for the day had included that trail and possibly one other medium-sized track if I had the energy, so I decided to swing out towards Ryan's Creek as well. Just like Fern Gully, it was aptly named because it followed...a creek. It starts out in the forest and then cuts over to an estuary, where an old sawmill used to be. I'm not really sure who "Ryan" was - probably one of the early settlers, I imagine. It's supposed to be 3-4 hours round trip from the town, so I figured that would get me back to the hostel by dinnertime.
Heading out along Ryan's Creek
This was another great walk for the afternoon. Again, I was the only person in sight and had the entire place to myself. The forest to the left was dark, overgrown, and filled with bird song, and the water on my right was amazingly clear. It eventually opened up into the ocean, so what started out as a quiet country trail gradually became a coastal walk back to town. I held out a very small hope of running into a kiwi bird out there even though it was the middle of the day because it was likely to be the furthest from town I was going to get, but, unsurprisingly, they stayed hidden. Most of the afternoon was spent silently trekking along the shoreline and taking the occasional photo, so I don't have much else to report about Ryan's Creek. I was pretty tired by 2/3 of the way back, so I left any other walking for another day. I had considered continuing on to Deep Bay, but the sun was getting a bit low, so I didn't want to chance being out after dark.
Sweeping along the coast and then back to camp
I cheerfully returned back to Bunker's for a quiet night in with my new-found friends and watched a couple of movies with them. I made immediate use of the free wi-fi to check emails and take care of some business because free hotspots are incredibly rare in New Zealand. I had no idea how easy it would be to find one in the next stop. And that was pretty much it for that day. I got all of my things ready the night before and made sure to brush up on my New Zealand bird lore because the next day, I was going to Ulva Island, one of the last preserved havens for native species in the country. I wanted to be fully-rested for that, so I crawled into bed to the sound of the kakas outside and drifted off to sleep. Thanks for sticking with me for the incredibly slow update, guys! I'll try to get Ulva Island posted ASAP. Cheers!
Another shot of the water at twilight