Doubtful Sound, Fiordland, New Zealand

A visit to either Milford or Doubtful Sounds is more or less a must for any visitor. I was lucky enough to tour both sounds in September last. South Island had a late spring this year, and early September is not quite the best time to go; having said that, fiordland expetiences up to 7000mm of rainfall every year so one takes one's chances as one can. The Sounds are specaculr in any weather, whether in bright sunshine or gales and rain -- often that all comes on the same day!

This is an edited excerpt from my e-mail to friends; dated 26 September:

Hi everybody,

Thanks for the replies; this is my last afternoon in Te Anau, I'll be catching the bus for Invercargill tomorrow. Goodness,but this place does chuck the weather at you! Yesterday I had an all-day outing to Doubtful Sound, amuch narrower deeper inlet than Milford, and remote as can be. There's no direct access, you go by bus to Lake Mnapouri, catch the boat across the lake to the hydro-electric station, then another bus over the Wilmot Pass to the sound. That's the remotest bit of road in NZ, it's not connected to any roads, itwas built only to get the construction machinery for the power station from Deep Cove (ie Doubtful Sound) to Manapouri. Oh, yes, the weather: on the excursion, it blew a gale across the lake, one could hardly stand on the upper deck, then poured with rain over the pass, and the voyage on the Sound was a mixture of wind, pouring rain, and patches of sunshine on the steep mountains around. It's arguably more spectacular than Milford, The mounains around are 1400-1600m, but not quite so steep, but the rainforest comes right down to the water. It's evergreen beech forest, the trees look ancient, and draped in mosses, the ground overgrown with ferns and moss; truly a landscape for giants. The Sound has a number of inlets they call Arms, and the skipper went far into Crooked Arm, and then into an inlet of Hall Arm, where they do the "silence of nature" bit: the engines are stopped, and they ask people not to move or speak for 5 min; all you hear are the birds calling and the sound of much water falling down the slopes of the Fiord. I liked that, it puts one in a philosophical space, contemplating the grandeur, the rugged beauty and sheer remoteness of that special place. Other than the boat, nothing man-made can be seen or heard. I guess the romantic nature poets, eg Wordsworth would have been moved to lyrical verse, all I can do is try to say what it feels like.

The return was just as dramatic, and the wind as strong, but coming across Lake Manapouri we had the setting sun behind us, and clearer views of the forested mountains. I took masses of photos, but will have to see how they look, at times the light was so grey, the mountains too misty for the camera's autofocus to pick up -- you had to find something solid to get a picture!

Incidentally, I've read that the Sound was named Doubtful by Captain James Cook (of whom more later), from the seaward end it looked so narrow and steep that he doubted that a sailing ship could sail out again -- sqare-rigged ships needed a lot of space to tack against the wind. Captain Cook missed Milford Sound on his circumnavigation of New Zealand -- the entrance from the Tasman Sea is deceptive; Milford was discovered by a Welsh navigator, who named it for Milford Haven, a port in Pembrokeshie.