Shorelines: A boaties' idyll around every corner

It is impossible for any lover of shorelines not to be envious when looking at an old Lands and Survey map I have of the Marlborough Sounds.

It shows the public reserves on the north-eastern tip of the South Island - a frayed landscape of peninsulas, islands, fingers of land and deeply indented sounds. The reserves, coloured pink, cover almost the entire map.

What is more, there are marked on it 61 spots in the Marlborough Sounds Maritime Park of recreational interest, from tracks and shoreline camping spots to boat-launching jetties and park huts.

I keep the map because a kindly Department of Conservation ranger marked on it recommended camp sites, stretches of water that can test small boats and sea kayaks, and other spots that are good for exploring and paddling.

The notations are as illuminating as the pink colouring. The outside of D'Urville Island is "very exposed to the west". The advice for rounding Cape Lambert and Cape Jackson is that it is "very exposed and tide rips".

The narrowest spot in Tawhitinui Reach, in Tennyson Inlet, and Hikapu Reach, in Pelorous Sound, carry the warning "can get rough when wind and tide in the opposite direction". The rest of the sounds are circled with a marker pen and carry the legend "good exploring and paddling areas".

I can confirm that the map is pretty much spot on, including the "can get rough" bits.

The Marlborough Sounds are undoubtedly the best small-boat cruising location in New Zealand, with their network of sheltered waterways, islands, bush and farm backdrop.

I explored the sounds by sea kayak eight years ago and wrote: "It is enough to make a wonky-kneed tramper spit.

"Here we are, camped on a deserted beach in Tennyson Inlet in the Marlborough Sounds, with all our gear and food for a week, and Glen is dicing fresh cauliflower and courgettes into his billy.

"The word kayak has nothing to do with Eskimos, he explains between sips of a refreshing, cold beer. It is derived from kai, meaning food, and yak, meaning to carry great loads.

"A few metres further down the beach, smoke spirals lazily from a driftwood fire on which Laurie, Liz, Richard and Nick cook huge, succulent mussels, plucked from the shoreline in ankle-deep water.

"Our tents are nestled in the flax and scrub of Tawa Bay; our sea kayaks pulled up above the high-tide mark. A weka keeps getting in the cockpit of Andy's canoe. Who knows what the rich people are doing? Who cares?"

That experience remains the essence of recreation in the Marlborough Sounds, a system of drowned valleys with 1500km of coastal inlets and ridges that rise abruptly to the skyline.

I have walked the length of one of the most prominent ridges, the Queen Charlotte Walkway, a 67km trail from Ship Cove, where in 1770 Captain James Cook careened the Endeavour, to Anakiwa at the head of Queen Charlotte Sound and site of the Cobham Outward Bound School.

Throughout that walk your eyes focus on the indented shoreline and blue water below. Every bay and inlet, and there are dozens of them, seems a likely place to careen a ship and replenish supplies, to sit back and relax with fish caught at your feet.

Tucked away in idyllic spots are holiday homes whose owners reach them by launch or runabout. But tucked away, too, are DoC campsites that can also be reached only from the water. We used sea kayaks, but a small runabout or sailing dinghy would do the job. Campsites have showers and toilets and an honesty system for camp fees.

Sea kayaks are particularly suited to the area. We began our voyage in Tennyson Inlet, paddled into Pelorous and Kenepuru Sounds, and portaged our kayaks over The Portage into Queen Charlotte Sound. Small boats could be taken by trailer to Kenepuru or Queen Charlotte.

Queen Charlotte Track

Southern Wilderness

* colinmoore@xtra.co.nz