Turning thirty in Doubtful Sound

‘Thirty is an attitude. It says you know what you’re doing and you’ve got what it takes to get where you’re going. The fact is, you’ve never been better or smarter or more ready for adventures than you are right now.’ – Author Unknown.

‘Happy birthday to yoooouuuu!’

Eighty three people, all of them near perfect strangers, bellow the final line of Happy Birthday. I can feel myself blushing, a slight heat coming to my face as all eyes focus on me. A square of coconut encrusted pink cake is set down in front of me. The single silver candle flickers in the low light for a moment. I take a deep breath and blow the candle out. There is clapping, laughter and more shouts of ‘happy birthday!’ from around the room. Gradually, the general hubbub of conversation begins to grow again. Dessert is served. This is what it is like to celebrate turning thirty in Doubtful Sound.

Why Doubtful Sound?

When I first realised I would be spending my thirtieth birthday in New Zealand, I knew I had to make it special. I might not be surrounded by friends and family, but I wanted to remember this milestone forever. And what could be more memorable than celebrating on board a boat, in the middle of Doubtful Sound, one of New Zealand’s last great wildernesses?

It became the bright spot of my six week trip to New Zealand and Australia. I looked forward to visiting Doubtful Sound more than any other part of the trip. When it was over, the memory was one of the best from my weeks away. I cannot think of a better way to have celebrated my thirtieth birthday.

Getting into Doubtful Sound

The journey into Doubtful Sound is an adventure in itself. We board the first boat that will take us across Lake Manapouri at noon, expectation and excitement heavy in the air. I look at my fellow passengers. There’s a mix of couples and adult groups, with only one family unit. The teenager with his parents appears bored the entire trip. The majority of my group wear anoraks, sturdy hiking boots and quick-dry trousers.

Little do I know it, but I will form a brief, powerful bond with all these people during the next twenty four hours. We’re unfamiliar with each other now, but soon they’ll all be singing Happy Birthday to me. We’ll have friendly conversations, share stories, laugh a lot and encourage each other to jump into the chilly waters of Doubtful Sound. But I don’t know that yet. On board this first boat, they’re just a group of strangers, dressed in practical outdoor gear.

The boat comes to life, shudders beneath us and cruises out onto the lake. Mountains that seemed so distant only an hour before close in around us as we power past Pomona Island. Our captain keeps a running commentary up about the history of the lake, telling us about our surroundings and explaining the geography of the region. I sit on the open top deck, huddled into my jacket as the chilly wind whistles past. I’m one of the few brave souls who ventures up there. In no time at all, we’re swinging into the west arm of the lake, heading for the pier. From here, Manapouri Power Station, a bus will take us over Wilmot Pass.

One Incredibly Expensive Road

We traverse the pass via a twenty-one kilometre gravel road. On either side, the dense bush creates a green, almost impenetrable wall of foliage. The air is grey, heavy with moisture. We are travelling along one of the most expensive roads ever built, cutting right through the heart of the bush.

‘It cost two dollars per centimetre of road built,’ our driver informs us airily, gesturing with a free hand at the road ahead.

That’s 2,100,000 centimetres of road altogether. At two dollars per centimetre, it works out that the road cost NZD$4.2million to build. If our driver is correct, it is a very expensive road indeed!

Its history is fascinating. Our driver shares that until the 1960s, there was no road whatsoever. Before that, Doubtful Sound was accessible only by air, sea or via the Wilmot Pass walking track. Looking through the steamed up windows at the increasingly dense bush outside, I feel glad I don’t need to hike this pass. It would be a tough walk!

In the 1960s, with the construction of Manapouri Power Station, the need for a road arose. Initially, it primarily accommodated heavy equipment transporters moving loads of up to ninety seven tonnes from ships offloading in Doubtful Sound. It remains the only way to haul equipment to and from the power station that is too heavy to be ferried across Lake Manapouri. Nowadays, tour providers also use the road to transport visitors to and from Doubtful Sound.

We cross the divide and begin our descent down towards Doubtful Sound. There is a glimpse of our destination, Deep Cove, where our overnight vessel awaits, before the bush closes in once more, obscuring the view. Shortly afterwards, we are being welcomed on board the Fiordland Navigator.

On Board the Fiordland Navigator

Safety briefing over, our cruise gets underway. A group of women join me and we make introductions. Viv, Jo, Libby and Ray have spent the past few days tramping the Kepler Track. This cruise is their treat to themselves for completing the walk. They’re friendly, fun and the sort of women I aspire to be like in the future. Adventurous, spontaneous, unafraid and comfortable in their own skins.

As we lean over the railings on deck, feasting our eyes on the breathtaking scenery all around, we talk and get to know one another. Our conversation is punctuated by gasps and fingers pointing at fresh new vistas as they open up. The boat motors steadily towards the entrance of Doubtful Sound. Here, the calmer, peat-steeped waters of the sound meet the temperamental Tasman Sea.

There are big swells and huge waves rock the boat. I stand at the prow of the boat, the wind blowing through my hair, spray soaking me. It’s an exhilarating experience. On the open waters, waves smash angrily against huge, menacing outcrops of rock. We spot fur seals basking in the weak sunshine and, unexpectedly, a couple of ducks float past. Our guide informs us that they’re a regular sight. They’re lost from view as the Navigator does a slow about turn and we head back into the sound. Back to the safety of the calmer waters!

Kayaking in Doubtful Sound

We chug slowly up Bradshaw Sound and drop anchor in the late afternoon. With the engine cut, it’s now easy to hear the complete and absolute silence that surrounds us. It dawns on me just how remote we are, anchored here in the midst of this vast, pristine wilderness. All around, the mountains command our attention, dwarfing everything.

I’ve signed up to kayak. I paddle away from our boat and look back to see that it is overshadowed on all sides by towering cliffs and sheer slopes. It seems tiny in its majestic surroundings. In this moment, I feel tiny too. I sit back and revel at the ease with which the kayak glides through the peaty brown water.

We paddle along the shoreline, accompanied by nothing other than a soft breeze rustling leaves overhead and the occasional bird call. Everything is still and calm. I feel utter joy. It is an incredible privilege to be here. This is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. The hour of kayaking and exploring the shoreline slips away far too quickly.

Taking the Plunge

‘Now for the plunge!’

The shout goes up. It’s tradition on board for passengers to swim in Doubtful Sound should they wish it. I join a small, hardy group who want to jump into the chilly waters. It’s a once in a lifetime experience, something I cannot pass up. When will I ever get the chance to jump into the waters of Doubtful Sound again if not now?

Those who don’t want to swim stand by and egg us on. I jump from the back of the boat with cheers ringing in the my ears, hitting the water a second later. It envelops me. I plunge down and down, eyes tight shut, mouth closed. It’s not as cold as I’d anticipated. My downward trajectory slows and I pull myself upwards, back to the surface. My skin is pink with the chill and pimpled with goose flesh. I swim slowly back towards the ship and haul myself out.

Now I’ve done it once, I want to go again. I plunge in for the second time, this time noticing a slight temperature change as I slide through the murky water. There’s a distinct line where the peaty water that has run off the land sits on top of the denser saltwater underneath. I try not to think about the fish and other creatures that inhabit these waters and end up staying in for about twenty minutes, until a crew members urges me back on board. Reluctantly, I climb out.

The swim is the highlight of my time on board the Fiordland Navigator and an experience I’ll never forget.

An Evening on board the Fiordland Navigator

Food is another highlight on board ship. We are fed extremely well. From the welcoming soup we’re given upon boarding to the cooked breakfast we’re treated to in the morning, every bite of food is delicious. Now, as we near the finish of our wonderful three course evening meal, here I am, grinning with embarrassment as my fellow passengers finish singing Happy Birthday to me.

I nibble on cheese and listen to the conversations flowing around me. Rachel and Peter have joined us for dinner. They’re only slightly older than me and they laugh easily as they share stories about their travels. Peter suggests another round of drinks and promptly goes to the bar to buy more wine. As dinner winds down, people fade away to different corners of the boat. I take my half full glass of wine up to the front deck with Viv and the others.

It’s twilight. The cove in which we nestle is still and silent. We clink glasses together and there is a fresh chorus of ‘happy birthday’ from my new friends. One by one, we drift away from each other. I sit alone on the front deck for a while, feeling utterly at peace.

The trip so far has been every bit as memorable as I hoped. My fellow passengers can not have been more friendly and celebratory. I feel incredibly lucky to be on board the Fiordland Navigator to welcome in my thirties. It’s the best way to welcome a new decade.

On cue, Viv, Libby, Jo and Ray return. They insist on staying up with me until midnight to see in my birthday properly. We chat quietly, stargaze and listen to birds calling on the shore. As we hit January 5th, they hug me, say ‘happy birthday’ once more and bid me goodnight. It has been the perfect ending to the perfect day.

A Morning exploring Doubtful Sound

I get barely any sleep. After falling into bed at 12.30am, I am woken when the generators are switched on at 4am. It doesn’t matter. I roll out of bed, dress quickly and sit on deck with a cup of coffee as the sky lightens.

After breakfast, we weigh anchor and set course for Crooked Arm. Although it’s calm, the weather is overcast. Clouds obscure the mountain tops. From time to time, a sunbeam manages to burst through. Momentarily, a section of cliff is under the spotlight. Seconds later, the sunbeam is gone again. I race around the boat taking as many photos as possible.

A shout goes up. Dolphins spotted! Just ahead! A small group, three or four, slip in and out of the glassy waters. It’s another high point of the trip. I lean over the edge of the boat and watch them until they’re out of sight. Now, the boat edges into Crooked Arm, our final destination of the trip. Here, the captain will turn off the engine and we’ll get to experience complete and utter silence.

At least, that’s the theory. In reality, the wind suddenly picks up. It blows so strongly down the sound and buffets the trees. They roar as their boughs and branches thrash in the sudden squall. Rain dashes against the boat. It’s a reminder of how quickly the weather can change in Doubtful Sound. One moment, calm and quiet. The next, a howling wind and a rain shower.

I pull my hood up and shiver in a sudden chill. The boat drifts closer to the shore and the engines come back on with a powerful throb to take us away from danger. It doesn’t matter that we don’t get complete silence. I’ve had the most wonderful time without this final experience.

The Parting of the Ways

Our time on board the Fiordland Navigator is coming to a close. I feel a mix of disappointment, happiness and contentment. I’d love to stay in Doubtful Sound for longer, but the time I’ve had here has been near perfect.

As we disembark back in Deep Cove, it seems everyone feels the same way. The mood is quiet on the bus back over Wilmot Pass, as people digest the experience they’ve just had. I chat quietly with Viv. We swap contact information and promise to stay in touch. She is heading back to Wellington tomorrow, while I stay in Te Anau a couple more days and visit Milford Sound. Libby, Jo and Ray are going back to Wellington as well. Rachel and Peter will continue their travels around the South Island. These brief, wonderful friendships are coming to a close.

Back in Manapouri I hug my new friends goodbye. I feel a sense of sadness as I walk away. Sadness that my time in Doubtful Sound is over. Sadness at how fleeting these moments with good people are. Then I shake myself. Contentment washes over me. I have just spent my thirtieth birthday in Doubtful Sound and it was wonderful. More incredible than I could ever have imagined. I feel so lucky to have had the experience.

Now, it’s time to head to my hotel, take a shower, have a nice meal and call home. My birthday isn’t over yet!

Hoping to visit Doubtful Sound one day yourself? Read this short practical guide to visiting Doubtful Sound so you know exactly what to pack, how to book and what to expect!