I wake up in a wet sleeping bag and a flooded tent. As we journey toward Milford Sound the rain continues to flush down.
I had thought about going to Doubtful Sound instead of Milford Sound, as it had been recommended by Lonely Planet, though it is smaller. Also, it can only be accessed by boat. However, having chatted to a Kiwi in the kitchen last night, he recommended Milford Sound as the more spectacular.
As we pass over a narrow bridge coming near to Milford Sound, I notice that there is a waterfall passing under the bridge with a level of violence that makes me stop and turn around to get a better look. It is not the biggest waterfall by any means, but water is gushing with an intensity that I do not think I have ever seen before. Though I am soaking in the rain, it puts a smile on my face. I am told later by a local guide that this waterfall is hardly noticeable on dry days.
It is still teeming with rain when we get to the Milford Sound car park. Having come here only because the girls wanted to, it annoys me a little when they say that they would rather stay dry than go out on one of the boat trips available for exploring the sound. Still, there’s a Kiwi – of the fowl kind, rather than the fruit or fellow - wandering around the car park, so at least they have seen something....
Having come all this way, especially considering that we have travelled for hundreds of kilometres specifically to get here, I am not leaving without going onto the Fjord*. I pay NZ $90 for a boat trip dubbed the ‘Nature Encounter’. This is supposed to be different to the other trips available as it promises to go up close to the mountains and waterfalls.
When I get onto the boat, the two guides are a young Irishman and an equally young Kiwi, both of whom are friendly and chatty. They are not too busy as the boat is supposed to take about a hundred people, and there are only about thirty people on board. Ironically, I think this is because of the rain. I say ironically because a handful of people on board are Milford Sound guides on their day off and they are here specifically because of the rain. Although there is about 7m of rain here annually, they say there hasn’t been such an intense day of it for a long time and they are coming out because the waterfalls will be much more powerful and numerous than normal.
*One of the things explained by the guides is that Milford Sound is a misnomer, in that a ‘sound’ is formed by a river being flooded over by the sea, while Milford Sound is in fact a Fjord, i.e. a valley into the sea formed by a glacier. The difference then is the difference between ice and water. The same is true of Doubtful Sound, but to compensate for this, the area is dubbed Fiordland National Park, though they still haven’t managed to spell it right. Ironically, the only individual places that are called Fjords in the area are bodies feeding off Lake Wakatipu by the Remarkables mountain range, so they are not Fjords at all. So whoever originally named this part of New Zealand didn’t seem to know their geography.
Today’s rain means that we can’t see very far to some of the peaks made famous by their inclusion in the Lord of the Rings films. However, with the hundreds of towering waterfalls, some viciously pounding into the fjord and some serenely cascading down, with mountains rising right out of the water and with the great mists tumbling over the overhanging peaks, those who have skipped out today because of the rain have made a big mistake. You can call it fantastical, you can call it Tolkienesque or perhaps otherworldly. I just call it bloody awesome. And really the pictures don’t even do it justice.
There are rain coats on board, and these are not just for those who have come unprepared for rain. You can sit in the inside deck drinking tea or coffee if you want to, but more hardy souls are invited to stand on the bow of the boat as we approach the waterfalls. I have brought a plastic mac that I found in the clothes bins at Foley Towers hostel in Christchurch, but it isn’t robust enough for this. Several times we inch up close to the bottom of a fall, and the water deflects off the surface of the fjord and pounds our faces like large hail stones. I have to turn away from hanging over the bow, but I stay outside and get soaked through to the skin, despite the rain coat. My camera is wet and fogged up too.
One of the off duty guides who have come on this trip is a Japanese girl who does the trips for Japanese tourists. She tells me that there is an additional reason for the off duty staff being here, as the annual party for people who work at Milford Sound is tonight. The climax to the evening festivities is a naked run from the docking port to the restaurant bar by the car park. She invites me to come along. I ask her if she will be taking part in the run and she says she might after a few drinks. Regretfully, I have to decline the invitation as I can’t really expect Mary and Caz to wait around here having left them waiting in the van for the past couple of hours.
I depart the boat drenched but happy. When I get back to the van, the ladies asks me how it was. I deliberate. Having come all this way just to sit in the van, shall I be kind and just tell them ‘it was OK’? I’ve never been too good at hiding my feelings though, so I tell them that they have just missed the most bloody awesome place on the entire planet. No fooling.
We depart to Queenstown, the adrenaline activity capital of New Zealand.
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