Dawn on Milford Sound
It is dawn, Wednesday morning, on the top deck of the Milford Mariner, moored in Hamilton Cove in the Milford Sound. A cloudless sky, slowly brightening, the Southern Cross still shining overhead. Wow.
We started our voyage to Milford yesterday morning. After a somewhat hurried breakfast at Joe's Garage (our third in a row; what a great place!) we boarded our bus. Our driver was Carl. He said hello. Then didn't stop talking the rest of the day. Born and raised on the South Island near Queenstown, a former guide, he was a fount of knowledge about everything kiwi. At one point Andie said to me, "he talked about wool for twenty minutes. That's when I stopped listening." He also talked about deer farming, the difference between fencing for deer farming vs. sheep farming, the details on the road on which we were driving, the deterioration of the quality of driving on said road, the reason for said deterioration, and many other things. He was delightfully informative. We made a few stops, including lunch in Te Anau, where I dragged Andie down a side street to see the youth hostel I stayed at in 1986. The road through Fiordland National Park was indeed spectacular, and we finally pulled into Milford Sound around 4. We boarded the Milford Mariner shortly thereafter, and set out into a brilliant, sunny late afternoon.
As the sun dipped behind Mitre Peak, a school of dolphins rushed the boat and played for a few minutes in the bow waves. Then we headed to Harrison's cove, grabbed a mooring, and jumped into kayaks. After much discussion about what to wear ("Dad, you're the only one wearing shorts"), off we went. Wow.
Glassy water, clear skies, peaks all around us garnished with pinkish wisps of clouds. It couldn't have been more beautiful. Andie decided she couldn't paddle one handed, so she held her GoPro in her mouth and led the way. Humming the Beach Boys' Kokomo (for some reason sort of an anthem), we were the last boats on the entire sound. Again, wow.
That topped Monday, when we took the gondola to the top and spent 3 hours rocking down the zipline course. You fly down the hill through the pines, occasionally bursting out from a grove to see a spectacular view of Lake Wakatipu. The last zipline is the steepest one in the world (Nepal has the second steepest), a fact that initially made Andie nervous. But by the time we got there, all fear was gone. She practically jumped off of the platform.
We had lunch at the Bespoke Cafe (which we had discovered that place sooner, man was it good), then chilled for a while at the Piko Piko apartment. Then back to town, where we caught a rickety blue van for the ride to Skippers Canyon, on the upper part of the Shotover River. The famous jet boat tour in Queenstown is the Shotover, which started shortly after a farmer named Hamilton invented the jet boat. These boats have giant engines but at top speed draw less than 6 inches, which means they can go up or down even the shallowest river.
The road to Skipper's Canyon is reported to be the 7th most dangerous in the world (who rates these things?) And indeed it was filled with stomach clenching moments as our driver, Willie, chatted away and drove with one hand around tight turns with dramatic drop offs. Andie looked totally relaxed. I looked totally relaxed. We were both slightly terrified. We finally got to the launching point, gratefully, and boarded the boat.
Wow do these things fly. We rocketed up the river, clearing giant boulders and cliff walls with inches (less) to spare. It was SO fun! Occasionally Andie and I would look at each other and start laughing. The boat swerved and dipped with the undulations of the river, blasted through one spot that looked narrower than the boat, and did a few spins just to make sure we all got wet. It was completely thrilling.
After the ride we went to the house of the family that runs the boat tour, who have lived there for 4 generations. Andie placed her Daniel sticker on the railing overlooking the river, a beautiful and peaceful spot to remember him by.
Now the sun rises, the sky lightens, the stars are gone, the gulls start to fly. Good morning Milford.
