A Dip in the Tasman Sea, and a Slop through the Mucky Muck

Kristie Post: Tuesday


Big water scares me. Perhaps it’s because I hail from the high desert? Most likely it stems from an incident I had as a child swimming in the Pacific ocean when I got swept in an undertow? I really don't like having most of my body dangling in an environment I cannot see. I stand on the beach of this calm little cove and consider dipping my toes in, but hold back. I find myself feeling small and powerless by the enormity and roar of the ocean (but, give me a peak or a mountain saddle, and I’m larger than life.) Chad, however, is thrilled by the ocean. He wakes up this morning, and decides he can’t miss the opportunity to swim in the Tasman Sea. The water is cold, and without a wet suit, he is only able to take a quick dip. But, we makes the best of it. He crashes into the waves unrestrained and smiling even as the shock of cold straightens his spine. He howls and laughs like a child. I can’t help but feel I’m missing out, but tell myself another day...Watching his joy is enough for me.

We check out of the cottage, and start out on our day. It’s the last full day of fun before we make our way back to Queenstown to prepare for our departure. We decide we miss the tramping, and go on what is touted as “the finest day hike in all the Catlins.” There are only rolling hills around us, but this 2.5 hr hike is said to take us to two waterfalls. The weather is actually nice today after intermittent storming the last few days. We expected to trudge through some mud, but as we enter the bush, we find ourselves on a slippery slop through the muckiest muck. 

This was the muckiest hike I've ever done. Luckily for you, you get the scenery without the muck!

Chad in the thick of it.

With a lot of cursing and grunting, we get to the waterfalls. They are separated by about 100 meters, and very different from each other. 

 

Chad's classic tree pose. Tricky on the mossy rocks.

They are splendid, but our enjoyment of them is dampened by the walk back through the muddy jungle. This "hike" would have been better enjoyed prior to the rain, and certainly before we had already tackled the much more impressive tramps of our trip. How spoiled I must sound.

We make it back to the van, and don't even bother cleaning our shoes, which now have mud caked into every cranny of the soles. We throw them in the van, which has taken on not only our stink, but all the stink of a thousand hippies before us. Lord, it is rank. We roll down the windows and head off to the final viewpoints of the southern coast – the first is Slope Point. We came to the parking area, which was already packed with visitors. We have grown weary of tourist spots like this, and decide that it isn't worth a 20 min walk to get a photo with a sign marking the southernmost point of New Zealand’s south island. We drive on to view the overlook about a quarter mile down the road. We pass huddled groups of torturous trees that have grown sideways from consistent antarctic winds that sweep off the coast. These trees are remarkable. 

Trees near Slope Point.

Pastoral scene.

Chad outside the trees

Kristie inside the trees

We enjoyed the view by ourselves, and drive to a nearby lighthouse, where we walk down to the beach and come upon a few sea lions lazing about. Chad hates the things, and I laugh at them. How awkward a creature. There were two males and one female. The males started barking and posturing at each other to establish dominance, but after wobbling at each other in a challenge, they seemed to tire out and give up.Ha! Ridiculous. 

What majesty! King of the beach.

A little cuddle.