Day 12 was always scheduled to muck around here at Doughboy but who could have predicted the third straight cloudless day with not much in the way of wind?
The body has had a fair hammering with three 7-hour plus days in a row and the biggest day of them all is tomorrow getting over the hump to Rakeahua.
I’ve stayed here before, nine big years ago, but it still seems inconceivable I didn’t find the famous 1800s sealer’s cave considering it’s only 100 m out the front door of the hut. I just didn’t work out it was quite so close. It’s wider and shallower than the West Ruggedy variety, with more headroom but not as generous shelter. This was the cave where an eccentric Japanese woman came to find herself for a few months, back in the 1970s from memory, before the hut was dropped in. Actually, the hut was relocated and reconfigured from the old NZFS 6 bunker at Long Harry I once stayed in, helicoptered by the Navy down onto a barge, floated down the coast, and choppered into the new site.
So I walked around the beach as far as the big creek in my hut booties this morning, ie, not a huge effort, then this afternoon I wandered on a slightly vague path around to the point near the heads to watch the huge swell crash against the granite rocks and then, to my surprise, was spotted by a curious seal who kept scooting past in the turbulence. I guess it was trying to work out exactly what that upright black-clad figure was doing on the shore.
Later in the darkness, I went outside, still no clouds, this ain’t going to last too much longer, the stars out as bright as you could imagine, I wandered down to the beach to take it all in, those hut booties are more useful than you might think, yes, those stars really do the star thing when you are away from city lights and it’s the New Moon, ie, no moon, time of the month. If it wasn’t quite so cold, it’s around 4º C, I would have laid on the dampish sand and stared for hours, at those shooting stars.
So, basically the perfect regenerative day here in Paradise.