Monday 2 March 2015

26 February 2015 Hokitika, West Coast



The night passed without event apart from the fact we seem to be watching far too many mindless movies, sitting up too late to do so, and being subjected to hours of equally mindless advertising. I really should excuse myself earlier, insist Chris puts on his earphones and immerse myself in my books; a much more desirable occupation.

After breakfast we walked up into the village, in the off chance that the newspaper might have arrived and were not surprised by the answer; 10.30 am at the earliest. By then we had filled with water, dumped and were on the road, heading north again, on past Lake Mapourika, along wide river flats and up and over windy steep hills, again missing the air brakes of the Canter, passing through forest that creeps close to the road and would take back all sign of civilisation if we were all to absent ourselves for ten years. At Whataroa, we were successful in picking up the day’s newspaper, then pressed on up and over further steep ridges and across more rivers. At Lake Ianthe we pulled into the small recreation area and found it congested with motorhomes, camper vans and rental cars, all vying for a park in too small an area. We managed to turn around, then had to back up for Asian tourists who did not seem to understand it was easier for them to reverse than us with our great bulk.

We had thought we might stop at Pukekura to revisit the Bushman’s Centre, previously “sign posted” by a gigantic sand-fly. The Centre was established in 1991, moved to its roadside spot in 1993. Lonely Planet describes it in my rather dated copy as being “a predictably rustic craft-shop with an ingrained possum hatred”. This was obviously penned by an Australian or someone who does not understand the devastation these otherwise cute little critters have wrought upon New Zealand’s native birds. When we called six or eight years ago, it was as described on line; a museum that describes how the local people used the forests in bygone years before DOC took control, depicting fur trapping days and exhibiting possums and live eels. There was a wonderful though rather jaded “20 minute  DVD screening on the deer industry showing amazing footage of the hunting and capture of deer which culminated un the multimillion dollar deer farming industry that is seen throughout New Zealand today”

Possum pies were one of the main attractions on the menu for the coachloads of tourists who stopped by, but alas in July 2014 the demise of the pie was the subject of a television documentary and regional current news.  The former wild-food award winners had been shut down by bureaucracy; the Ministry of Primary Industries said there was a potential food safety risk from selling unregulated meat. The problem had been simmering for some time, and the vendors had got around the problem by asking for a donation in return for a possum pie, but the Ministry argued that this was still essentially a sale.

Driving by today, I had the impression, especially now the giant icon of the West Coast has disappeared, that the owners, the Salters, have lost heart and are simply tired of fighting the faceless men.  This is such a shame and typical of PC laws overriding common sense. Mr Salter, a hunter with forty years’ experience trapped his own meat, inspecting his kill and only taking healthy animals to avoid any risk to the public.

As we came over the last hill before the historical gold mining settlement of Ross, we saw the sea, the Tasman Sea, and realised that although the road from Haast Village follows the coast north, there are few places in which the driver actually sees the coastline except by taking side detours, apart from Knight’s Point and Bruce Bay.

We did not bother calling into Ross, although it is worth a visit if it is the first. On our first visit we did 2.6 kilometre Water Race Walk which takes in past gold diggings, caves, tunnels and the cemetery. We pressed on, the land now more open and developed, much showing signs of serious agriculture and soon reached the turnoff to the very pretty Lake Mahinapua about ten kilometres south of Hokitika. 

The scenic reserve around the lake was gazetted in 1907 and is also the location of an excellent little DOC camp. The lake was once a coastal lagoon but with a build up of coastal dune system became a shallow inland lake. The narrow one way road in is covered in arch-like with heavy West Coast bush and without realising you are on a one way system, it could be quite disconcerting to consider someone might approach from the opposite direction.

We drove in, wiser for having been here a couple of times in the past and parked up in the camping area, expecting to stay only for lunch. We were delighted to sight a couple of wekas, the first for this trip, and made the most of the space to remove the carpets and spring-clean the floor area of our home-on-wheels. Given we had no cellphone reception, we decided to press on to Hokitika and as we drove on out, encountered more weka; a hen and her very cute chick. I was delighted!

Arriving in Hokitika, we parked up near the Information Centre, picked up a map and spent some time wandering about the town. The population of this little coastal town is about 3,000 and today, apart from being home to a fairly substantial dairy factory which services all the dairy farms hidden here and there along this wild coast, relies on the tourists that pass through plus hosting the annual Wild Foods Festival when the hordes arrive to sample an amazing assortment of food you have never even thought of.

The town was founded on gold mining in 1864, the centre of the west Coast Gold Rush. In late 1866, it was one of New Zealand’s most populous centres. On 16 September 1867, there were forty one vessels alongside the wharf here, in some places three and four deep. In that year, the port of Hokitika ranked first in New Zealand in both the number of vessels entered inwards and in the total value of exports (principally gold).

Needless to say since those days the population has diminished considerably but there are still some grand old buildings about, albeit modified.

We wandered up to the beach and found an assortment of driftwood sculptures, the remnants of the now annual Driftwood and Sand community beach sculpture event held since 2004, yet another draw card for visitors to this town we found far more vibrant and go ahead than when we were last here.

Back south across the Hokitika River, we pulled into the NZMCA park over property, finding several other parties already here, and since our arrival, the area has filled up. We sat with a dozen others over happy hour swapping travel notes and solving the employment problems of the region, before retiring to our own sanctuaries. The fish pie tonight went well with the bottle of red we were obliged to consume to fulfil the social mores. Rain has since threatened but the forecast suggests a beautiful day for tomorrow.

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