Robert thought using his unofficial rain gauge, a bucket in the garden, that at least 100 mm of fallen. Was certainly more in the hills.
He’s been here almost 39 years so he’s used to it.
No question the river was up. By late afternoon it was down quite a lot, but was not much hoping of crossing where I went through. Still brown, but a deeper brown, like a Stewart Island river tannic brown now.
I collected more firewood because although being midsummer it ain’t exactly your optimal summary beach holiday temperature.
Around 5 pm it started raining again. I’m happy to be tucked in with quite a library to read if I feel like it.
Went for another cuppa and piece of cake with Robert. We do like a chat. He confirmed horses had come down the coast in the mid-1980s, but had been stopped by Lands and Survey, as national park administration was then, from entering few Fiordland National Park due to horses spreading seeds. It took a month of negotiation, including discussion in parliament, before they were let through.
He also confirmed the 80-something year old coming through just before I visited Big Bay four years ago. He’d come in from Cascade in one day, and the next gone on to Big Bay. An ex-deer culler. Can’t slow that guy down.
Lots of book reading today. Ain’t that what you are supposed to do on a standard beachside holiday?
Went down for more loads of firewood. Plenty more had been deposited by the storm with waves around 3 m, I guess. The tide was right in at one stage.
It’s all quite a sight.
The rain this evening had a super heavy ten minutes that would have drowned my poor tent. Good to be in this most special of huts. Big fly screens to the porch, not 100% secure, however. View to flax across the airstrip. Stacks of ready cut firewood, rata, a short stroll away. An indoor tap over the sink. A decent supply of low-grade food, two-minute noodles, to supplement the diet. Great conversation just next door.
The gorge and the river flowing out is unbelievably spectacular.
Plenty to like about here.
Just hope the weather improves a bit, at least to Martins Bay where it doesn’t matter quite so much.← Day 9 | Gorge River Hut, night 2. A rest day Day 11 | Gorge River Hut, Night 4. Onto a good thing →