Sue Sets Sail for Somewhere

For a couple days around Solstice, while all the holiday visitors were here, we had rented a house in a remote part of the far northwest coast of the South Island called Mangarakau, which is pretty much a wide spot in a gravel road. It’s a limestone landscape with rugged coastline and a couple nearby rivers that empty into the Tasman Sea. There are a few rather large sheep “stations” in the area, but not much else. The surf is pretty wild compared to the little lumps we call waves in Golden Bay…a lot like the Oregon coastline…with nothing between it and Australia.

Launch site at top-center @ whitest part of surf

So, with the group assembled, we had a little Solstice celebration dedicated to our most excellent friend, Susan Arndt, who died almost 2 years ago. She was always a traveler and before she got sick was planning her next adventure, which didn’t happen during her lifetime. For many months, we’ve been packing some of Sue’s ashes around and Chris dreamed up a way…using a less-than-appropriate figure of speech, to get Sue back on the road. Here’s how we made it possible (by “we,” I mean I drove the car).

One late afternoon, with an ample supply of saussies (a more civil term than the American “weenie”) and wine, we drove out to the end of the road past Mangarakau to the mouth of the Anatori River. Given the sparse population of the area, there’s an abundant supply of driftwood, shells and other detritus with which to fabricate about anything one might want…in our case, a raft on which to set Sue to sea. So while the saussies sizzled, and the sun set, we sat sipping in the sand and sank our souls into Sue’s simple ship.

Weaving the sail. Sue in upper shell with candles.

Paddy grilled, Matt lashed, Abby and Tom wove, Ian assembled, Chris designed and decorated and soon we had a seaworthy craft fitted with 3 candles to light the way, with Sue occupying a paua (abalone) half-shell.

Paddy testing out for fire-building merit badge

Somewhere along the way, we had adopted, or I should say, were adopted by, a stray 14 year-old girl, who for reasons only a 14 year-old would know, found our group much more interesting than her own family with whom she was camping. It turned out she was a competent flax weaver, which for us was anyone who could tell flax from cream cheese, and was more than willing to share her skills in showing us how to weave a sail.

Crew, including stray (in pink)

Completed vessel

Lighting the candles

Along about dark, after a few glasses of wine, and on an outgoing tide…remember we’re a couple hundred yards from the mouth of the river…Matt and Ian, with candles lit, set the Sue Maru adrift in the swift current.

Bon Voyage, Sue

With a set of mild rapids about half way between us and the surf, we figured Sue was likely to flip there and then wash back up on the beach, nearby. With the group following the raft downstream, offering verbal encouragement, she actually made it through the rapids, with candles lit. This boosted the confidence of our group immensely and the encouragement stepped up a notch to cheers, whistles, woo-hoo’s and “go-Sue’s”. The 14 YO flax consultant was at least as exuberant as any of us. I like to think of her as an Aasta stand-in.

Another 100 yards ahead was the surf, with many sets consecutive, breaking waves, maybe 3 feet high. The chances seemed pretty slim that she’d make it over any of them. But thanks to the candles, we can confirm that she made it over 6 or 7 breakers before the candles went out, but those with younger, better eyes swear that she kept going for several more before fading into the darkness. We’re pretty sure she made it through the danger zone and is still probably enjoying her trip to The Gold Coast of Australia.

First Visitors

"Where you going?" more, louder funny noises...”hey, do come back now, hear?”).

Tom practices ventriloquist act for JW visit

While all the people were here, we managed a few hikes (tramps), the most scenic of which was at the northern end of Abel-Tasman National Park, the eastern edge of which is just a few minutes from here.

Mutton Cove in Abel Tasman National Park

Besides experiencing the beautiful beaches and “native bush” we found a dead penguin that we tried to prop up into a cute pose…but failed…

Shhh, don't want to wake him

and I was attacked by a ferocious black oystercatcher (a bird) for getting too close to its nest. I expect Abby was pretty impressed with her dad’s fancy footwork, which involved cleverly appearing to trip over my own feet and landing on my face in the sand and avoid imminent contact with this 12 ounces of flying fury.

Sure, it looks harmless enough

Now, everyone is gone and we’re back to our routine…see previous posts to see what that is. If you’re interested, check the post after this one to get a couple more details on the last couple month’s activities including setting Sue adrift, regressing to the 60’s, and the Great Moa Discovery.