Bulwer… Bul–where?

Our next road trip was to Bulwer. You will recall that on the multiple sign post at the turn off to this arm of the Marlborough Sounds, there was a pointer for Bulwer, a place I had never heard of before & one I wanted to visit as it was right at the end of the road,  80kms away. Camped at Elaine Bay, we were already half way there but 40kms on a gravel winding road will still feel like eighty.

We climbed back up to the top of Elaine Bay Road and turned onto the ‘main’ road heading once again towards French Pass. David kindly pulled over to let a truck carrying a digger past, he repaid us with a view full of dust for the next 10kms! We pulled back to let him get ahead but with not a breath of wind the dust hung in the air.

Next right Bulwer, 30kms…..

The lambs are fattening up at a fast rate around here, Christmas must be getting close. Although David tells me he heard on the radio the other day that they don’t dock Christmas lambs, too much stress toughens the meat. So it may be that this chubby chap has a little longer to enjoy the green pastures overlooking Pelorus Sound.

We wind our way down the side of the ridge for a couple of kilometres before we come to another road junction, Bulwer to the left this time but we take a short detour to check out Cissy Bay & Te Towaka.

I walk to the edge of the road on the left to check out the view and what a fabulous view it is. This is Admiralty Bay looking north towards the outer sounds and Cook Strait. D’Urville Island is the far distant finger of land on the left (with a smaller island in front of it). French Pass a good distance around the middle point on the left and we are heading to and over the far point on the right. Once again there are dozens of rows mussel floats filling every bay in both directions.

We drive down towards Te Towaka to find out that it's the farm we saw the other day from high up on the ridge on our way to French Pass. It's tucked into a beautiful deep cove with a private jetty. The road down to Te Towaka is private but we take another branch to Sissy Bay on the otherside of the bay where there were a number of holiday homes and permanent residents including one with a sense of humour.

Back up on the Bulwer Road we stop often to check out the scenery, the road is gravel, narrow & winding and we seem to be the only one travelling today. Not a soul in sight in all directions (and in fact we see no one on the way in and just 3 cars on our way back out). We can see the road following the contour of the hills along the coastline for miles ahead of us.

D’Urville Island fills the horizon.

The road drops down to sea level for a short distance in a little bay and tucked up beneath the bush are these wonderful little fishing huts. The dark green hut has a 'Kozy Nook' name plate on the wall outside.

We push on and it’s about now that David wonders whether it’s worth continuing on, the views are spectacular when we break out of the bush and pine forests, but the road is getting narrower and the twists and turns are starting to become a pain…..in the bum. I tell him we’ve come this far we can’t turn around now but we've only covered about a third of the road. This is looking back the way we've come, you can see the road running along the hill on the other side of the bay.

There’s a stain of dirty water on the shoreline of this farm ahead of us which means there must be muddy water entering the bay from the farmland behind and as we move further along the road I see that there are thousands of arum lilies blanketing the slope down to the farm buildings. Arum lilies love damp ground and there are a few water tanks buried amongst them so I think perhaps there’s a fresh water spring located under there somewhere.

My sister Gaelyn, would love to get in amongst these lilies! Arums are her favourites, many years ago she had trouble locating enough arums for her wedding bouquet. She found a couple of plants on a farm near the main road and after asking permission to pick them, kept a wary eye on the flower spikes hoping they wouldn’t bloom before her big day. In the end she was able to pick a precious few, just enough for her bouquet.

The road starts to wind higher & higher & disappears into bush again, we start to wonder whether we’ll ever get to the end.

At last we can see we’re nearing the end of the ridge, the view is magnificent, tiny cabbage trees dot the slope out in front of us and off in the distance we can see the stock yards of Port Ligar farm where we’re heading. The islands in the centre are the Trio Islands, the ones to the left protect the top end of D’Urville Island.

I zoomed in on the cabbage tree slope, this should give the shot above a bit of perspective; it was a long way down to the water.

The road is now little more than a farm track and we stop near the stock yards. It’s no wonder the sign way back at the beginning of the road says ‘Port Ligar – No Beach Access’, you’d feel pretty cheated driving all this way to check out the port and then finding out that there isn’t one. Port Ligar is a farm and although the bay we’re about to see on the other side of the ridge is also called Port Ligar, it’s surrounded by private farm land.

Looking out to the right of the ute we can now see French Pass clearly across the bay and the tiny township tucked beneath the dark green pine forest with a shallow crescent of golden sand showing where the beach is.

In front of us is another cattle stop, we must have crossed at least a dozen on the way in but this one takes the cake! I’m not sure what all the string, rope, old mudguard and other bits of plastic are doing nailed to the side frames but it sure looks like an abomination. Add to that the right hand metal cross bar has a nasty sharp end to it that has broken loose and is pointing upwards. I wonder how many tyres that has shredded on the way out.

Before we move on I climb the fence and walk along a track around the edge of the hill where this amazing sight comes into view, this is looking towards the top of  Pelorus Sound. This is Port Ligar with Homestead Bay in the foreground. The large bit of land in the centre that looks like an island is part of Port Ligar Farm and is actually joined to the tip of the point of land that we’re on.

Below us we see a dirt road winding down to the water and a homestead, at first we think that it must be Bulwer but it’s not until we drive on, that we realise the Bulwer road carries on winding it’s way along the ridge and over the two promontories on the right. The road we see is a private road down to Waterfall Bay Lodge which has cottage accommodation along with rooms in the lodge. What an amazing, secluded and remote area of the Sounds to stay at.

We carry on across the cattle stop, Bulwer can’t be too far now. Mr TomTom says 6kms which again feels like double that with all the winding up and down and around, we feel like we’re heading back up the finger on the eastern side. We can now see Homestead Bay and the lodge from the other side and the thin isthmus that joins the large ‘island’ to the mainland on Port Ligar farm.

Finally we pass a sign advising us that we’re now entering Bulwer Scenic Reserve, it’s now about 2pm and we haven’t stopped for lunch along the way in the hope that we’d get to Bulwer and be able to have it on the beach.

For the next 2kms we herd this family of sheep (including the black sheep of the family) down the road, they try running up the bank but then come crashing down in front of us and they refuse to run off the other edge when there are a few gaps. I tell David to slow down even more and then stop as they tire, hoping they’ll make their way over the edge without the pressure but no, no matter how long we leave it we find them ahead of us again. Finally as we break out of the bush they take a flying leap over the side and head off towards a collection of houses in the bay below.

And there below us is Bulwer and by the look of the road end, cattle stop and signs it’s a private farm too, which will explain the sheep in the reserve. Bloody hell! All that way and we can’t get down there.  David’s reserved English nature (yeah right) tells him he can’t intrude and we must turn around.  I tell him we’re not coming all this way and not going down there. Plus I’m starving and I certainly don’t want to drive all the way back up to the top to have lunch. I can see a couple of people wandering about so I tell him I’ll ask if we can have our lunch on the water’s edge. He’s very reluctant but we drive on.

We stop near a woman walking up towards a house with a large sheep walking alongside her. I get out and for my troubles the huge wether sheep head butts me in the bum. ‘Lucky’ doesn't like me interrupting his walk.  I explain to the lady that we were hoping for a reserve at the end of the road where we could have had lunch and were surprised to find that Bulwer ended in their farm.

She says no problems, drive on down to the beach and you’re quite welcome to have lunch at the ‘Cigar Hut’, just watch out for the farmyard animals they may make a nuisance of themselves, as she slaps the sheep on the nose just as he lines me up for another head butt. This farm also has some motel units, 'Cedarview Cottages' and guests obviously use the hut for happy hour drinks. We move the picnic table out into the sun and make ourselves at home.

There are some old boats moored out in the bay and in dry dock on the beach, there’s old sheds and old houses and a few baches in the settlement too. A small runabout arrives at the wharf with guests for the motel. The farmer is a little shy, he’s working in the shed (old house) near where we’ve parked. He tells David that his grandfather jumped ship when he was young and swum ashore and claimed the bay as his own. And the family have farmed it ever since. He had lived there all his life (about 65 years I’m guessing). It's a 2 hour drive to the main road and then another hour to Nelson if they want to visit the 'big smoke' although I suspect he hasn't left the farm in years.

This was the shed the farmer was working in, as it turned out it was his grandparents home and up behind that was his parent's family home (now rented out) and off to the side and towards the back of the settlement was his family home. By the look of it, the jeep must have belonged to the grandparents! The old cargo shed would have been used to store wool & other farm products, waiting for the coastal shipping boats to come and collect from the wharf.

We finished our lunch and thanked the farmer for his hospitality (his wife had disappeared along with 'Lucky'). After another interesting road trip it was time to turn tail and head for home…

The Road to French Pass

Firstly, apologies to those on limited data (or have an ultra-slow upload) for the amount of photos in this post. I have had such a hard time choosing the photos to go with this blog and after about the twentieth scan through I decided that was it, I couldn’t weed out any more. I swear, I spend triple the time sorting photos than I do writing the blog! But you’ll see why I had such a hard time choosing once you’ve finished reading.

What a brilliant afternoon we had for our road trip to French Pass, calm, sunny & warm. We decided we’d drive the road first before deciding if we’d tow ‘Out There’…..well, out there. The road is gravel pass the Elaine Bay turnoff and winds through native bush for about 7 kilometres with just a few frustrating peeks of Pelorus Sound.

Finally we broke out of the bush and stopped at a lookout & rest area high up on top of the ridge with 360 degree views.

To the east is Pelorus Sound, which is quite huge and has many bays, inlets, reaches, coves & channels, this is just one tiny portion of the Sound, somewhere off to the right behind that far point is Elaine Bay.

We’re not the only ones taking a rest. On our travels we’ve seen plenty of odd places for memorial stones (well I hope they’re just memorial stones). And really they aren’t odd, they’re in quite beautiful spots and obviously have a significant meaning to the person in their past and the family in the future. I felt like I wanted to offer him a cup of tea!

The magnificent views to the west are out over the upper reaches of Tasman Bay and far across the great expanse of ocean to Golden Bay. To the north is D’Urville Island and the tiny spot of white water between the island and the mainland is French Pass.

The next 10 kilometres of road are gravel and pass through private farmland; sheep & cattle quietly graze the slopes on both sides. Loopy lambs & calves scatter though, as we approach, not yet used to vehicle noise. This mini had done the scattering for us for a few miles.

The views are spectacularly beautiful & absolutely breath-taking out over an impressive & awesome landscape, wow, wow, WOW! I’ve now run out of superlatives so I’ll let the photos do the talking….

We cross another cattle stop as the road ducks behind a rise and ahead of us a road branches off to the right. This will be the Bulwer Road, 25kms further on along a ‘finger’ of this arm, and one I want to explore too. It also leads to Port Ligar where we used to deliver water tanks. Now that is a long way to drive from Christchurch, no wonder the drivers grumbled at me when I included a Port Ligar tank on a Marlborough/Nelson load.

Down below us is Hallam Cove & Sissy Bay(another tank delivery spot) with Mt Shewell (775m) looming over them, we can see Mt Shewell from our camp in Elaine Bay. And look, there are even lines of mussel floats littering this beautiful cove.

At the road junction, we stop (again) so I can take a photo(s)- I think I should just like to walk this road to French Pass with my camera & tripod slung over my shoulder. The last thing you expect to see out here is a post box, mail is collected 9:30am Monday & Thursday.

We’re getting close to French Pass now and the turbulent waters of this treacherous stretch of water are clearly visible. On the left are the waters of Tasman Bay, on the other side, the outer Pelorus Sound leads out to Cook Strait.

The water races through French Pass Passage on each tide at up to eight knots creating whirlpools, eddies and strong currents. Feared & respected by mariners and once navigated by Maori in canoes it proved more difficult for French Seafarer Dumont D'Urville (whom the island is named after). In 1827 he spent several days checking out the passage before venturing through, he clipped the underwater reefs twice before being spat out safely into Admiralty Bay. He described the sea as a ‘seething sheet where great precaution needed to be taken’.

The pass is only 500 metres across but the main navigation channel (‘throat’) is only 100 metres wide and 20 metres deep, nearly all the remainder of the pass is broken reef. The Cook Strait tidal range is up to 2 metres where as Tasman Bay has up to a 4 metre tidal range. This, along with the 25 minute difference between high tides on either side causes a massive flow of water; peak flow in the ‘throat’ is around 4 metres per second. 

Further on past the Pass Lookout the road drops down into a quite & calm bay (Admiralty Bay) where the sleepy little fishing, farming & tourist village of French Pass is located. This is also where the DOC campground is located right beside a safe swimming beach. We stop at one of the picnic tables for afternoon tea and relax in the warm sun for awhile watching a few boats coming and going. There aren’t too many people about and only a few shuttered up houses in the bay along with just one small store that has fuel available and a few provisions.

There’s is a sizeable wharf though and it’s from here that a variety of commercial & private boats leave for D’Urville Island. Much of the island is conservation land and while there are plenty of tracks to walk (and camping sites) they are not regularly maintained. A lot of them are old farm tracks that run through the regenerating bush. There’s also a few lodge & operators that offer eco-tourism activities.

The wharf had a lot of character, I loved the old waiting room with the arum lillies growing in the concrete cracks on either side of the entrance & another red mail box inside!

Can you tell I really love this wharf!

On the way back up out of the bay we stopped at Collinet Point lookout where a cheeky weka came running out of the scrub to greet us, looking for hand-outs no doubt. I’m becoming quite fond of these endearing birds, David’s not so keen on them though. I love their inquisitive but slightly wary nature, their beautiful colouring and especially their haunting calls at night, which we’re hearing a lot of at Elaine Bay.

Near the lookout are some large panels that tell the story of Pelorus Jack, a famous dolphin that lived in the area and also the first dolphin in the world to receive the protection of the law. Pelorus Jack first appeared in 1888 and for the next 24 years he accompanied boats to and from French Pass. He stayed in Pelorus Sound and never swam through the Pass into Tasman Bay.

Pelorus Jack would meet boats as they came out of the pass, riding their bow waves for up to 8 kilometres into the Sound. Then he would join boats returning to Nelson at the entrance to Pelorus Sound and escort them back to the Pass. Pelorus Jack was last seen in April 1912. It was bittersweet for me, reading about another friendly dolphin. My encounters with, Moko-(My Mate Moko Blog)- are still very fresh in my mind, he only managed to survive for a few years once he became involved with humans unlike Pelorus.

From across Admiralty Bay we see a mussel barge making it’s way towards the Pass and wait to see it navigate through. It’s 2 hours before high tide and we watch as it pulls right over to the edge on our side at the narrow point of the channel and sails through on the outside of a navigation beacon close to the cliff. It must be able to come in so close because, as a barge, it has a reasonably flat bottom.

Mr Weka follows me to the otherside of gravel carpark, careful to make sure he doesn't get too close but close enough that I  have to watch where I step as he moves very fast. I take one last photo of the lovely French Pass village and climb into the ute, ready to head home.

It’s getting late and the sun is dropping quite rapidly over Tasman Bay as we drive back up onto the ridge where the views are still magnificent. We stop to watch the mussel barge cross the bay far below; we’ll follow it along the coastline from bay to bay for awhile as we drive along the top. It must be heading for Nelson.

Off in the distance we spot a small motorhome approaching, while just in front of us a lamb is about to do a kamikaze dive over the side. We decide to pull up and wait for the vehicle to navigate the section of corners between us, it’s easier for us to pull off to the side where we are than hope for a similar area further on.

I think they must have seen us and possibly pulled over to wait too as they took quite awhile to appear around the corner. Enough time for me to get out of the ute and take some more shots over the glistening bay far below…

...and climb up the bank behind the ute to take some looking south west towards Nelson....

...and then finally they appeared, smiling broadly once they spotted me with the camera.

One last stop to take another photo of Pelorus Sound overlooking Hallam Cove with Fitzroy Bay behind and off in the distance a snowy peak in, what I am assuming, must be the Richmond Range.

It’s not only us humans that enjoy the views.

We had a fantastic afternoon, the drive was spectacular with breathtaking sea views of French Pass and D’Urville Island. I know overseas tourists have in the past rated it as the most scenic drive in the country even surpassing Milford and Queenstown. And although I don’t think it beats the Milford Road, I think it would at least be equal.

We've decided to stay put at Elaine Bay, not because the road would cause any problems, because it wouldn't, it's actually one of the better 'off the beaten track' roads we've travelled- although David couldn't quite get used to the huge drop off on my side going, when it was on his side coming home it was fine. Its just as easy to stay here in Elaine and do any other exploring from here, including another road trip up the Bulwer arm later in the week.

Footnote- We had another horrendous time with the wind this morning, we had the van wrapped up and secure before we retired last night; the gale force winds weren't forecast to hit again until dawn but we went to bed prepared. The wind started about 6am but didn't wind up to full force until around 10am. Thank God it was daylight and we could see what was happening outside. Some of the gusts were ferocious, I honestly thought we were going over a couple of times. Scary stuff. Even the weka hiding in the bush beside the van let out a yowl. If there was a small consolation, it was that we now have even more confidence in the van surviving such rough conditions. We just hope that we don't have to go through it too often! We earnt our wine tonight I can tell you!