THE BOTTOM BIT - part 2

Marc totally lost the plot in the aftermath of a Super 14's rugby match one afternoon in Queenstown and signed up for a skydive early the following morning. Not content with leaping into oblivion at the usual 9,000 ft, he went for the Big One - 15,000 ft, officially a high altitude jump that needed oxygen masks on the way up in the plane and a crash helmet as protection against any passing jumbo jets. Strapped tightly to his tandem diver he free-falled for over a minute, posing for his personal cameraman whilst hurtling to the ground at 200km/h then drifted down, doing twists and turns with the parachute before landing with a whoop. For the next week, I had to stop him from wearing his underpants over his trousers!

We based ourselves at Te Anau to explore the unique landscape that is Fiordland. Part of a World Heritage site, Fiordland National Park is a vast untouched wilderness of lush forest-covered mountains and plunging fiords of deep, tranquil waters, which stretch like bony fingers towards the sea.

The first European explorers called them sounds, believing them to be flooded river valleys instead of the glacial carved valleys, or fiords, that they really are. Access is permitted to only two of the fiords and we took an overnight cruise on the largest and deepest of all - Doubtful Sound, so named by Captain James Cook, who took a peek at it in 1770 and declared it a "Doubtful Harbour" and sailed right past. Access to Doubtful is by organised tour only which involved a bus journey from Te Anau, a boat trip across Lake Manapouri where there was a bus waiting for us (can't imagine how it got there) for the journey on the most expensive road per metre in the history of NZ over the Wilmott Pass with stunning views down into the Sound below, then finally onto our ship, Fiordland Navigator.

Trying to describe the beauty, tranquility and remoteness of Doubtful is impossible - people stood silently on the deck as we weaved out way through towering mountains and sheer rock faces, trees and shrubs clinging to the slopes and hanging over the waters edge. We moored after a couple of hours and were given a choice of things to do - I chose to go on a small tender craft with another dozen people for a wildlife trip into the shallows and Marc went kayaking. Once everyone was back on board there was an opportunity to dive off the edge of the boat like lemmings and go swimming - no prizes for guessing who was one of the first to go ...

Doubtful Sound lies at 45 degrees latitude - halfway between the Equator and South Pole and winds called the Roaring Forties whip around the coastline here making the trip out to the open sea later that afternoon a very up and down, white-knuckle affair. One of the many small islands we passed at the mouth of the sound is a recent wildlife success story. Introduced predators such as rats, stoats and public enemy number one, possums (they make excellent slippers) have had a devastating effect on the native bird population as have deer on the vegetation of NZ, and on many islands projects are in place to eradicate all pests (deer are given a free ride in a boat) and re-introduce native species. The latest success story is Secretary Island at Doubtful which has been declared predator-free and saw the re-introduction of the NZ robin this year.

Anchored at the end of Precipice Cove for the night, after a fabulous dinner we took a walk on the deck in inky blackness and utter silence before retiring to our 4-bunk berth which we were sharing with a French couple, one of who wore bright blue nail varnish on the toes of one foot - it suited him! The boat left Precipice Cove at 6.00am and after breakfast it turned into the Hall Arm where everyone sat still on the deck for ten minutes as all engines and generators were turned off and we drifted to the sounds of birds and a distant waterfall echoing around us. We arrived back at Te Anau by lunchtime and packed our rucksack for our day trip to the smaller, steeper Milford Sound the next morning.

We had enjoyed glorious weather of the trip to Doubtful but it tipped down on us in Milford Sound which was great as we were able to enjoy the complete contrasts. Grey days here create a spectacular scene of rainy-day waterfalls cascading down over the clifftops like ribbons, but they never reach the water below as they are caught and whisked away by the wind. It felt just as if we were on the set of a ghostly movie, sailing into the swirling mist, not knowing what was waiting for us around the next corner.

The road to Milford is fraught with danger - people get stranded at the only hotel at the tiny settlement for days at a time in winter because of avalanches, which are largely managed by controlled blasting high in the snowfields but the danger is always present. Tree avalanches are also a problem. These occur when big chunks of vegetation and trees growing on rocks with little soil cover lose their grip and come sliding down into the valley, closing the road for days at at time.

But I guess that the biggest spectacle of the year is the Homer Tunnel Race which attracts dozens of runners and hundreds of spectators. The Homer Tunnel is a single lane, rough-hewn tunnel, about a mile long linking the Te Anau Downs to the Cleddau Canyon on the Milford side. It is controlled by a set of traffic light that change at 15 minute intervals and it is during one of these intervals on 1st April every year that the race takes place. Open to men and women it is a free-for-all dash to the other end. There are three rules - 1. Proper footwear 2. A torch must be carried (no lights in the tunnel) and finally 3. No clothes whatsoever ...