Abel Tasman – child free bliss!

It’s great to be back at Toby and Heather’s in Wellington and the children are all really thrilled to be back together again. The lego is out, as are the Elsa and Arna costumes, within minutes!  Fi and I have really been looking forward to the next instalment – Toby and Heather have very kindly offered to give us a break and look after our children for a few days. We’ve decided to do something that we couldn’t really do with the children, so it’s the Abel Tasman walk, stopping in huts, carrying our sleeping bags, food, stove and utensils etc.  But although there are a couple of public holidays, Toby & Heather are both working from Tuesday to Thursday so we all meet Hilary, who is Loma’s childminder and who has the dubious privilege of adding our three to her care. The children immediately warm to her and we’re confident everything is going to be OK.

After 10 days of glorious weather, it’s ironic that the forecast is much patchier for the coming days and it’s raining and cloudy as we take the quick but bumpy flight from Wellington back to Nelson on the South Island. Heather’s sister Pip and Husband Hamish have kindly agreed to meet us at the airport and drive us to Marahau at the start of the ‘tramp’. We stay in a very comfortable cabin, 10 minutes from the start of the park entrance – this is the last bit of luxury for a few days. We wander out for dinner but wait, just listen to those cicadas!  It’s extraordinary – they’re so loud we can hardly hear each other speak – I’ve never heard anything like it!

The next morning we look out and see that our luck continues – despite the forecast, the weather is fine and sunny.  We load our rucksacks, head to a cafe right at the park entrance and load up with a mighty breakfast. Then, we’re off!

Day 1: Marahau to Anchorage (12.4km)

It’s a 4-hour walk, all pretty flat. The path is immaculately kept, running through the forest with the occasional reward of a stunning view through a gap in the forest of a turquoise bay, lined by a golden beach. The sound of the forest is pure cicada; not quite as loud as last night but continual white noise to accompany us. Not for the first time in NZ, I notice the lack of bird song, which I really miss. The rats, stoats and possums introduced by humans (and particularly the Europeans just 150 years ago) have decimated the indigenous bird population. Great efforts are underway to restore the population and we see over 100 traps along side the path in just one day, protecting the coast and the nearby islands.

Fi has had a problem with her shoulder for several weeks now and I / we are a little concerned about how she’ll manage carrying a fully loaded rucksack. But with some help getting it on and off she seems OK (although it’s difficult to tell with Fi as she’s acquired her mother’s habit of gritting her teeth and bearing just about anything!). The first couple of hours’ walking are fine and after lunch and a swim in the sea, so is the third.  But the last hour is hard! My legs are absolutely fine but my shoulders and neck are begging to get the rucksack off by the end. These are muscles I don’t normally use! We stop in a DOC hut which lived up to the pre-billing of being pretty smart – spotlessly clean rooms with 6 people to a room in bunk beds.

Day 2: Anchorage to Bark Bay (11.5km)

A similar length walk – when I put on my rucksack first thing, I’m pleasantly surprised by the lack of pain! There’s a shorter version of this leg if you get the tides right, but we would have had to get up really early to catch the low tide, so we end up doing the longer high tide route. We walk around the estuary and up the coast to Torrent Bay, where the path cuts inland, up and over a ridge before dropping back down to the sea at Bark Bay. The pattern is exactly as the previous day, with the last hour being just as tough.

The Bark Bay hut is more typical of the Abel Tasman DOC huts: 14 to a room on a single bunk bed, with 7 people sleeping side by side, top and bottom. As I quietly crawl into my bed, Fi is to my left and to my right is a Japanese lady who’s name I didn’t get around to asking – I did feel that sleeping next to a girl who’s name I didn’t know showed some lack of manners!  She is a bit strange… in an attempt to minimise the weight she’s carrying, she’s elected not to bring a sleeping bag – she’s sleeping in all her clothes with a jumper wrapped around her legs, presumably to keep warm rather than some Japanese custom I’m not familiar with. She tosses and turns all night, either because she’s a very light sleeper or because she’s freezing cold! The next morning we see her eating dry crackers for breakfast – another extreme but questionable weight saving measure! I have to say, despite the effort of carrying a rucksack, I feel that we’ve got a better balance between weight and comfort!

We realise that half the people we see in the huts are the same as yesterday: the friendly but quiet Frenchman who’s walking on his own and is much quicker than us; the tall, slender and rather aloof German couple who are really Dutch; the other Dutch guy with the wild curly hair; and half are new as they’re doing the walk north to south. It’s a strange thing, but for some reason we don’t find out anyone’s name and everyone seems to keep themselves pretty much to themselves. It’s interesting to see how everyone is doing their catering – the German couple (who are really Dutch) have a bulky rectangular gas stove and what looks like a 5 litre saucepan – enormous! (Interestingly, she has a small, neat rucksack, so he must be carrying the kitchen.  While she’s strikingly attractive it’s obvious she’s very high maintenance!.

Day 3: Bark Bay to Awaroa (13.5 km)

We have breakfast completely alone on the beach at Bark Bay – what a way to start the day! There’s a huge sandbank and I stand watching for ages as the tide comes in, washing away a channel in the sand, while the undertow creates a new, sharp edged channel within it. It’s like my own quiet meditation to start the day – a luxury I don’t often have with three fully recharged children running around first thing in the morning!

It’s only slightly further today and still the last hour is tough on the neck and shoulders – how long do you have to do this before you get used to carrying a full pack?  The views are more varied and even more stunning. I particularly enjoy the stretches of forest where there’s a double tree canopy: one is high, with the ancient grey and twisted trunks of manuka trees, without a single leaf below the canopy above; and beneath it a much lower second canopy of lush, soft, green tree ferns. The two complement each other wonderfully and it’s a sight you’d only get here in NZ.

Walking together (without the children) is fabulous. Fi & I have conversations that we haven’t had in months, like what work Fi is going to do when we get home. And when we’re not talking, my mind wanders to all sorts of interesting places (including what I’ll do when we get back home!). It’s very therapeutic and I note that we haven’t had a single argument since we left the children in Wellington!! Thank you, thank you Toby & Heather!

This is the last evening cooking for ourselves – it’s Mexican beans and rice again! We have one more sachet of ‘Spanish Bean Fiesta’ left. They are surprisingly heavy and I’m determined not to  carry them all this way without eating them. So I heat them up and work my way through them. That’s three portions of beans in one meal – is it a coincidence that the forecast is for strong winds tomorrow?

Day 4: kayaking back to Bark Bay

Rather than continue our walk north, we’ve decided to add a bit of variety and kayak back down to Bark Bay. We’ll be in a double kayak, but we’re not at all sure how Fi’s shoulder will stand up to 4 hours’ kayaking.

Those in the hut who are continuing north have to be up at about 5.30am to catch the low tide, so while we don’t have to leave until 9.30am, any plans of a lie-in are scuppered. It’s another blissful breakfast on the beach, then we walk to Amaroa Lodge for a real coffee. Hmm, that hit the spot!  (This is where those who don’t fancy sleeping 14 to a bunk stay!)

We wander down the beach to where we’re due to meet our kayaking party. Before long we see a RIB racing around the headland and making it’s way into shore. Kayaks are offloaded, our rucksacks loaded (they’re being taken back to Marahau for us) and our guide Darrell delivers our briefing.  He’s a caricature of an outdoor living Kiwi – in his forties, looking several years older than he is due to all the sun & weather, deeply tanned, peroxide bleached long straight hair and a white band of sunblock across his face like war paint. What you see is what you get – his briefing is simple and straight to the point. “It’s a good idea to make sure you can find the loop to release the skirt when you’re the right way up, rather than upside down and under water.” It’s clear that he’s not going to take any shit from any of us!

Getting into the boat and away from the beach is the trickiest bit, then we’re off. Fi shoulder seems to be coping OK, which is just as well – I didn’t fancy paddling a double kayak by myself and trying to keep up with the three other couples! It’s fabulous paddling close to the rocks and seeing sea lions basking in the sun, with mums nursing their pups. And there are shags everywhere. Darrel is great – he’s been guiding here for 26 years, knows every inch of the coast and is extremely knowledgable about all the wildlife, the geology and the history of the national park. He tells us that fishermen in the 1970s were frustrated that while there were lots of fish along the coast, their nets kept getting snagged and torn on the coral, so they dragged chains from their boats to break up the coral, destroying the ecosystem and the fish population that has never since recovered – incredibly short termist, incredibly sad.

We’re lucky with the tides so are able to paddle into Shag’s harbour, which you can only do at high tide. Daryl announces that we will have five minutes’ complete silence, just drifting on the full tide, listening to the sounds of the forest around us. It’s completely tranquil and beautiful. We paddle back out to sea, and stop for a sandwich and carrot cake on the beach.

We still haven’t mastered the getting into the kayak bit, but just about manage to avoid getting tipped over by the waves and make it away from the beach. We paddle around Tonga island for more close encounters with sea lions and the local birdlife, then make our way down along the coast back to Bark Bay. The water taxi is waiting for us; we clamber aboard, feeling like we’ve had a really good workout and the kayaks are loaded in behind us. It’s an amazingly short journey back to Marahau where there’s an army of retired tractors and trailers waiting to pull the boats out of the water. The operation is really slick and we’re back at the office in good time to get the bus back to Nelson.

We have a lovely meal in a pub around the corner from our guesthouse – it’s amazing how good proper food tastes when you’ve been living of noodles, rice and beans for a few days! They have a great arrangement with the gourmet take-away next door, whereby they deliver to your table in the pub. Why don’t more pubs do that?

This has been a really special few days. It’s been so good to spend time alone with Fi, away from the children. It’s hard to explain just how intense the last 6 months has been, being 24/7 together as a family. Before we left the UK, I’d acknowledged at some level that this might be an issue, but in hindsight I was in denial about it and didn’t really engage with the thought properly. It’s been a real roller coaster ride; at times I’ve found myself more deeply contented than almost any other time in my life, feeling so privileged to have this special time with the children. And yet Fi & I have also had some blazing rows that have left me deeply depressed and unhappy. But this trek has been incredibly refreshing and therapeutic – it has done us both the world of good.

The flight back to Wellington gives the most extraordinary views of the Marlborough sound and the south coast of North Island – some of the best views I’ve ever seen from a plane. We arrive back at Toby & Heather’s and the children have clearly had a wonderful time too. They’re really pleased to see us, but in fact Jemima, Gabriel & Zeb barely lift their heads from their intense game of Lego! Needless to say, MIllie and Loma are still dressed all in blue, singing their songs from Frozen!

Once again, a huge thank you to Toby & Heather for enabling us to do this – it’s been a real highlight.