KEY POINTS:
The sub Antarctic Islands of New Zealand are the kind of place that really get under your skin.
My first taste of the Bounty Islands, located 800km east of Bluff, was from the deck of a Russian icebreaker carrying a tour group of English birdwatchers.
The
guano-laden waves and the skies, almost black with seabirds were mesmerising. It was a culture shock, that, back in civilisation seemed to fade too easily.
Then, back on land, I walked into a gallery on a rainy afternoon and came across Bill Hammond's Jingle Jangle Morning exhibition.
I took a seat on one of those plushly upholstered benches that no one sits on at exhibitions. Around me was the soft shuffle of Merivale ladies' shoes. The owners of the shoes chirped and chattered. The bird faces stared back from the frames looking as if they wanted to be somewhere else.
I observe all this from my bench and for a moment I go "south", as the fishermen say.
The swirling Merivale ladies are transformed into salvin's albatross, the ugly ones become giant petrels. I am transported back to "shitters ditch".
The "ditch", as it is known in polite circles, lies between Proclamation Island and Depot Island in the Bounty group. History has it they were discovered by the infamous William Bligh.
While he named them after his ship, they could easily have been named for their profusion of birdlife.
I was visiting the Bounties as a boatman on the birdwatching tour, and, as I was new to the deep south, curiosity had me up early.
I rose just in time to see a collection of what seemed to be guano-covered rocks on the horizon. As we drew closer I realised it was not guano I could see but the swarms of birds.
The Bounties offer little protection from the south so instead of anchoring, two Zodiacs (with me at the helm of one) filled with the English birders were lowered over the side and left loping in the swell as the ship headed over the horizon on an hour-long loop. This did much to increase the sense of isolation.
A mix of fear, exhilaration and salt spray washed over me as we bashed our way to the intimidating coast of Proclamation Island. An opening in the rock revealed itself, leading us to a tall thin alleyway between islands. The motors were cut and our heads tilted skyward. The helmsman of the other Zodiac boomed theatrically, "Welcome to shitters ditch".
His voice, echoing off vertical granite walls, was barely audible above the din of thousands of birds. Above us the sky was dark with the comings and goings of Bounty Island shags, salvin's albatross and fulmar prions.
Around us swam erect-crested penguins as guano floated down in large dollops like fishy smelling snow. Every few seconds the swell elevated us halfway up the steep walls, bringing us eye-to-wing with some of the nesting birds, the waves quietly puncturing their peace before slipping down again.
The English bird watchers were uncharacteristically silent. Some were caught between a desire to take a picture and the need to protect their expensive camera gear from the shower of guano. Others had been subdued into a sitting stupor, their precious bird lists and guidebooks abandoned and left to swill around in the bilge water. The guano showered down, getting on our clothes and in our hair.
I don't know how long I had been south but I became aware of someone sitting near me on the gallery's plushly upholstered bench. I turned to see one of the Merivale ladies, who looked remarkably like a Cape Pigeon adjusting her expensive shoes.
"Isn't it marvellous," she said, "They remind me of my trip to Museo del Prado in Madrid." She paused and added, "what do they remind you of?" I looked her square in the eyes and replied "shitters ditch".
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Heritage Expeditions New Zealand Ltd runs 19-day Birding Down Under trips to the Bounty group and other sub-Antarctic islands each November. For more information visit heritage-expeditions.com or email: info@heritage-expeditions.co.nz
How much: US$6338 ($7903)
- Detours, HoS
