Devil’s Boots & Aorere Caves

We had one more walk ear marked to do in Golden Bay area before we left, the Aorere Caves & Goldfield Track which wasn’t too far up the Aorere Valley at the end of a farm track.

On the way we’ll pass the “Devil’s Boots”, I’d heard mention of the boots quite a few times and seen a few old photos of settlers posing in their horse & carts beside them so I was keen to actually see them in the flesh.

The Devil’s Boots are limestone outcrops & it was easy to see why they are so named! Two upside down boots sticking out of the ground, one on either side of the road. They are well named although they gave me a bit of a creepy feeling; “Picnic at Hanging Rock” kept popping into my head!

Once pass the Boots the gravel road becomes a narrow dirt track that runs alongside the Aorere River for about two kilometres before we arrive at a shut farm gate. There’s a multitude of signs on the gate warning of new lambs and to keep off the grass (this is a private farm & they need it for their animals).

We’re always very mindful of signs and have a healthy respect for private property, we're also very grateful that access is made available (even if the farmer sometimes has no choice in the matter). It is a privilege we don’t take for granted but there are others that do abuse the situation. In particular people on motorbikes & 4WDs moving off road cutting deep tracks into banks and across paddocks. It’s not only private land, we’ve seen some terribly rutted tracks over sand dunes, alongside rivers and in conservation parks too.

As part of the Aorere Goldfields there is quite a long 4WD track that loops around the reserve and continues on to come out on another road back towards Collingwood. We thought we might follow the track for a couple of kilometres to where there was junction with the walking track. We could then walk to the caves from there, saving ourselves some strenuous exercise!

But our plan was foiled, the 4WD track was just too rough and boulder strewn for our “shiny” so we returned to the grassy carpark and headed off up the hill, the caves were 45 minutes away, Duggans Dam, 1hr 20min. We allow at least an hour to the caves as we know from past experience that the DOC times don't allow for much leeway. We tend to stop often- for me to take photos, & to get our breath back. We also don't think DOC allow for older legs!

We pass some old gold workings early in the piece and other than a water race further on that's about all we see of the old gold fields.

The track climbed steadily up & up & up some more passing through scrubby kanuka & broom for most of the way. It wasn’t steep, just an energy sapping-ly steady climb that went on and on. It wound it’s way around the side of a hill and every time we caught sight of the summit we’d think we’re not too far from it now but then it would wind it’s way around the other side. There wasn’t much bird life, in fact there wasn’t much of anything except scrub & boulders although we did see the overnight workings of a couple of wild pigs; the track had been rooted up quite bad.

Finally we hear water and the track disappears into the more usual lush native bush along side a rocky stream. A little further on we see that we’ve reached the end of a water race. Nearby is a short side track to Stafford’s Cave. It’s dark and overgrown near the entrance to the cave and I’m not keen to venture too far. There’s too many rocks to clamber over and the cave heads downhill through a narrow entrance. David moves in for a closer look and shines his head torch down into the blackness. It doesn’t appeal to him either so we return back to the track (mine is a hasty retreat!)

We continue on for another few hundred metres, the track is now following the water race uphill, until we come across the sign pointing the way to the Ballroom Cave. About 20 metres before the cave our way is blocked by a huge slip that has brought down a small forest of trees. Hmm….we don’t have a chainsaw in the backpack so we’re not sure how we’re going to get over or around it but I’m darn sure I’m not walking all this way to end up not seeing the "piece-de-resistance"; the Ballroom Cave.

In the end we fight our way through the hundreds of vines and thick ground cover at the end of the pile. Have you ever tried to get through a tangle of vines? The gaps between them are mostly too small to squeeze through, the vines don’t move much and you end up tripping over every one you try to step over. And your backpack catches the ones above! I can’t imagine how explorers & early settlers managed to find their way anywhere.

Finally we’re at the entrance to the cave, a humongous black gaping hole!

David disappears down the slope and is swallowed up in the blackness before I get a chance to put my head torch on. I call for him to come back to help me down the slippery slope which as it turns out isn’t slippery at all just worn by the hundreds of pairs of feet that have passed this way over the years. The cave was quite barren, we were disappointed not to find any cave wetas, or spiders or any sign of life. I've used the camera flash to lighten the cave in the photos below (except for the middle one).

The Ballroom Cave is reputed to have been used by miners as a venue for dances, hence it’s name. I think they must have been very sure footed, the floor is rough & uneven. And I’m thinking maybe they danced with each other ‘cause I can’t imagine many women would have wanted to come up this far and if they did it wouldn’t have been too glamorous! It’s more likely the miners met in here for a drink or maybe for meetings.

We fought our way back through the vines and over the fallen trees back to the main track where I convinced David that as we’d come so far we might as well continue on up the hill for another 40 minutes to “Druggans Dam” which was the old Slate River Sluicing Company Dam and where we could have some lunch.

The track followed the water race winding it’s way in and around the hillside for what seemed like miles. It wasn’t as hard going now but I couldn’t believe how long the water race (& the track) were, probably a good 2 kilometres. Along the way we had glimpses across the Aorere Valley to the Whakamarama Range and north to Farewell Spit & Golden Bay.

Collingwood is tucked away behind the hill on far right, part of the huge Ruataniwha Inlet can be seen at the end of the Aorere River.

Finally and not before time we reached the dam outlet, a tunnel cut through the rock with a control gate deep inside. With one last steep climb we finally reached Duggans Dam which turned out to be a little bit of an anti-climax. There was just one small clearing off the track beside the lake where we could sit on the ground to have lunch. The only bright spot were the small clumps of native clematis blooming here and there in amongst the gorse & scrub.

Nearby was the race intake control gate.

Not a bird in sight! Although we could see some swans far across the other side beside the rushes. I thought there might have been a few ducks at least.

It had taken us a good two hours to get to the dam & rather than continue on from the dam around a loop back to the 4WD track and then onto the carpark (which would have added another 30-40 minutes to the walk) we decided to retrace our steps back down the same way. At least we knew what the terrain was like, I was worried the 4WD track would have been too stony and rutted to easily walk down and my feet were starting to complain. Loudly. There were also ominous black clouds rolling in from the mountains.

So it was off downhill at a fast and steady pace, we made good time and arrived at the last gate just as the first big fat spots of rain began to fall. By the time we had unloaded and were pulling out of the carpark the rain was torrential. We definitely timed that right.

Was it worth it? Well we both decided it was not the best walk we’ve ever done but we did enjoy the Ballroom Cave.

PS- And I did my part for Farmer Brown, once again rescuing a lamb on the wrong side of the fence. This one led me on a merry chase along the fenceline through two bits of boggy ground, across a stream and up a hill before I managed to catch him when he thought he could fit through a gap under a gate.

If You Can’t Beat ‘Em….

It’s been raining on and off for the last two days and it was especially heavy overnight. The jungle drums have been beating and today the camp has filled to virtual capacity, all the permanently parked caravans now have occupants and many of the cabins are occupied too.

The rain will flush out the river and send fresh water out to sea signalling to the whitebait that it’s time to take a run up the river. That is, as long as you don’t stick to the bank and end up in one of the multitude of nets strategically placed along the banks.

Today many of the camp whitebaiters stayed in camp to fish rather than head up stream where the river in spate was stained brown, reasonably clear but with a lot of debris. The photos above & below were taken from the rocks outside our front door, there are more fishers around the corner above.

What? Who is that? By golly, it’s David!

Our neighbour, Gerald, told David as he was heading to the showers at a reasonably leisurely hour, that he would set up a net for him below the van. “Great” thought David as he finished his morning ablutions and wandered back to the van to cook his breakfast. It wasn’t long before he wondered where Gerald had gone and when he was going to show him what to do.

Gerald had long gone, down the beach to set up his own net, he’d positioned David’s net and tied it down and shot through. I told him (half an hour ago) the tide had turned and he better get out there. David was like “What? How do I work this thing?

Gerald having more luck than David...

Just sit patiently and wait……and wait……and clear the net of all the floating driftwood.….and wait……and check…..and wait…..and check again…

Before long he had moved up the rocks a little more into the flow and then he was getting advice from our neighbour on the other side.

And then it was back to waiting…..

then checking……

....and double checking.....

and then checking some more, surely there’s something down there……wait, something's moving......

One bloody shrimp! He couldn’t even use the whitebaiter’s secret lingo of  “Enough for a feed”, *wink, wink* when asked how much he had netted. Not even enough for half a shrimp cocktail!

I’m not sure David will be out there tomorrow morning, after all it is a Sunday and Sundays are for sleeping in…..


Part 2- Anatori; End Of The Road will be coming next......

Collingwood For Capital

We are now deep in the heart of whitebaiting country, we’ve moved onto Collingwood and are parked up at the Collingwood Camping Ground, overlooking the huge Ruataniwha Inlet with the Aorere River flowing past just below our front door step. That’s when it’s high tide. When it’s low, the vast expanse of water becomes a vast expanse of mud, sand & wood. That's up at the river bridge (bottom right) and at high tide the water is right up to the bank and over a metre deep.

The tide range here is once again huge, a massive amount of water is shifted with each tide. The rock wall along side us has had some recent work due to extra high tides and the wave action undermining the rocks so it is a little dusty; we need some rain to dampen it all down.

The Collingwood Camping Ground is the classic old style rustic Kiwi camping ground, a little rough around the edges but with a heart of gold. Bill & Shelley are very welcoming and nothing is too much trouble, the people staying here are friendly (well most are, some are a little obsessed with fishing) and they’re from all walks of life.

The day after we arrived one of the guys that is doing work on the tennis courts (which are being expanded & resurfaced at the moment) approached David. They walked back to the van & I thought he must have been interested in the 5th-Wheeler but David called to me to come and meet Mike whose wife was a regular follower of my blog! They live in Nelson and when we arrived the day before, Mike thought the van looked familiar. So thankyou Mike for saying hello and a big thankyou Mikes’s wife for following my blog, it’s nice to know that I’m not talking to myself!

Actually I know I’m not talking to myself because I do get plenty of comments posted & emails and I have recently passed 50,000 views. And I can’t put them all down to my Dad, even if he likes to dissect each post word by word! So it’s a big thankyou to all my regular readers too, I’m pleased you are enjoying following along on our journey with us.

In the last few days the camping ground has been filling up fast, most of the new arrivals are regulars and will be settled in here until the end of the whitebaiting season. They give the new season a couple of weeks to settle in before arriving and now they’re hoping for the big runs.

We’ve already said goodbye to one set of neighbours who came to fish over the weekend (above) and their place has now been taken by Pam & Gerald (we won’t forget their names- I have family from HB with the same names). They have been coming to Collingwood Camping Ground & the same site for the past 17 years and will be here until the end of October. We actually had to move sideways by about 2 metres after the other caravan left because there’s also another regular and his bus due in the next day or two, he’ll squeeze in on the other side of us. We are also the odd ones out in camp, the only ones that aren't here to fish.

The campground is a hive of activity just before the tide turns as the fishers prepare to head out. Most have small dinghies that are towed (or pushed) by quad bikes. They launch them at the boat ramp just outside the gate and head off towards islands at the mouth of the river where they’ll then be occupied for the next few hours as the tide pushes the white bait in and up the river and streams in the area. Down at the bridge are the fishers that don’t have boats, the gravel parking area is full of cars and motorhomes and people jostle for their spots along the river banks.

Some try their luck on the point, just up from our van, but it’s hard going there as the sand is very soft and swallows your boots in no time at all. Scoop, scoop, drag it in and check, scoop, scoop, drag it in….. These guys were the only ones out yesterday, the rest were grumbling & mumbling around camp. An easterly has been blowing for the last 2 days and the saying is “East is least, west is best”. 

And remember this photo from my White Gold#2 blog? This couple were freedom camping further up the coast, we stopped to check out a large flock of spoonbills and David walked out to say hello to them. They were fishing in amongst the reeds at the outlet of a tiny stream.

Just like herding cats! They try to scare the whitebait into the mouth of the net.

Great, that’ll be enough for at least……. half a fritter! The funny thing was that neither ate whitebait. They just like to freeze the bejesus out of themselves in the great outdoors for fun!

At least there was a chair for one of them should they tire.

Collingwood is a quiet one horse town (I should have grabbed the shot as the horse rode through) Just a main street with a couple of cafes, a small supermarket, a pub, a hairdresser, the Farewell Spit tour company, and a tiny museum amongst others. The Post Office building (c1902) is the largest and stands very grandly near the end of the street near the campground.

This inner estuary area above and below is virtually drained at low tide.

This is the view out over the Ruataniwha Inlet with the river in the centre. You can see why the guys with the boats have a jump on the bridge fishers. They scoop their nets from the low lying islands at the entrance to the river. The very prominent & unusual looking Mt Burnett is back right, at it’s base is NZ’s only dolomite quarry (dolomite is a type of limestone). David says the range looks like a reclining woman, if it does she's got a protruding belly button & a big belly! (maybe she's pregnant).

The above photo was taken from a road up behind the town, when we were looking for the indicated “Lookout”. We thought the lookout would be out over the bay but in fact after walking and then driving on a couple of wild goose chases, we finally realised the lookout was at the end of a track behind the historic cemetery and looked out over the farmed Aorere Valley in the total opposite direction (with the view nearly taken by the flax bushes in front, this was taken standing on the seat)

In 1857 a half a world away in England, a plan was drawn up for a town to be called Collingwood, named after Lord Admiral Collingwood who was Nelson’s 2nd in command at the Battle of Trafalgar. Collingwood took control after Nelson was killed. It was to be built further up the valley over the farmland that we can see from the lookout. It was proposed that Collingwood would become the nation’s capital as it was centrally located with a growing gold field nearby that would provide wealth & people to populate the district. But the gold field faded and the miners moved on to richer fields. Other areas went on to claim the capital status.

We spent an enjoyable hour scouting about the cemetery, reading the headstones and matching the identified graves with the list of people buried there (can you have an enjoyable time in a cemetery?) The cemetery was in use between 1857-1895, many of the deaths were children, as was the case back then. Quite a few others had drowned crossing the Aorere River including the magistrate, and the police sergeant.......I wonder if they were whitebaiting.