Fishing - excitement at sea

When I was a child growing up in the Marlborough Sounds we used to go out in a slow noisy launch called Cobber, which my father looked after for a friend.  My recollections are vague but I do remember the purpose of these slow trips was to catch blue cod, which in my father’s firmly held opinion were the only fish on the planet worth eating.  We would fish with a hand line and would only go home when we had a rubbish bin full of fish.  The only fish that were kept were blue cod and any too small were thrown back.  We would then feast for days on the catch, as there was no freezer.

 In my twenties, Dad bought a 16ft runabout that he promptly named after my mother. This was a much faster way to get down the sounds to the best fishing.  There were no bag limits at that time and we come back with a bin full of fish; primarily blue cod, but also gurnard, terakihi and Maori chiefs.  Gurnard and the Maori chiefs were regarded as only good for fertiliser and they would be quickly dispatched along with bones and skin of the filleted blue cod and terakihi. 

By the nineties the size of the blue cod that could be caught had been specified and bag limits were imposed.  A few years ago I went out several times to the outer edges of the sounds and was lucky if I came back with any fish at all.  Over fishing had all but destroyed the fishery.  Then in the mid 2000s a moratorium was put in place to help the fish recover and more recently the fishery was reopened for a period of time and a limit of two blue cod per person with a size limit was allowed.

The boat that Dad bought is still with the family even though he is long deceased. 

Bev had only gone fishing as a child so she was keen for me to take her on a trip while we were in Picton.  As the weather was going to be reasonable on the day after our arrival from Christchurch I decided we go fishing.  I   recently had the engine serviced so I was confident that it would continue to reliably get us down to Tory Channel where the predicted northerly wind would be less. 

It was a very sunny and calm morning when I launched the boat.  The engine started easily and I eased out of the wharf and proceeded to the entrance of marina, but just before I got there a siren came on.  The dials showed that there was sufficient oil and there were no other lights on. The only thing I could think of was that the engine was overheating.  So I limped back to the wharf and tied up.  Fortunately the outboard engine mechanic was in his workshop and he very kindly came down to the boat, worked his magic, and pronounced it safe to take fishing. 

It took us about 45 minutes to get to a fishing spot in Tory Channel and put our lines out.  I showed Bev how to let it out and just before I was about to put my line down she said, “The rod is moving what does that mean?”

I quickly felt it and said, “you have caught a fish - reel it in!”

“How?” was the reply (she had not used a rod before). 

“Turn that handle and quickly because you will lose it!”

The weight of the fish suggested that it was a good size and after much huffing and puffing it was reeled in and in the boat, and we had our first legal sized fish.

“What do I do now?” 

“I’ll take it off the hook for you,” I replied. 

This proved to be the pattern for rest of our time fishing, with Bev hauling up fish after fish, most a reasonable size.  I felt exactly like my father must have, doing the same thing when he went fishing with the family.  He caught virtually no fish or had no time to fish, as he was always busy taking them off hooks for others or repairing lines that got snagged. 

I managed to get one fish of a legal size and several which had to go back into the water, which a patrolling shag (of the cormorant family) got at least one because neither I nor the fish was smart enough. 

When we had our limit we headed back to Waikawa.  The wind had strenghten a bit since we left but because Tory Channel is sheltered from the northerly it was relatively calm.  About fifteen minutes or so into the journey the engine suddenly lost power and I thought one of the tanks had run out of fuel.  I switched over tanks but when I continued I discovered I still had no power and it was clear from the sound of the engine that it was only running on two of three cylinders.  My initial thought (because I am not mechanically minded) was that it was a blown cylinder (I was to discover later it was anything but that).  I became a little worried because I knew that where Tory Channel met the main channel there was a bit of tidal rip that along with the wind would present some challenging conditions in the manner of quite large and choppy waves.

As the engine seemed to be going ok I proceeded along in the safe knowledge that being a Saturday,  and a holiday period, there were many boats around to help if I got into trouble. 

The catch

The waves when we got to Dieffenbach (where Tory Channel meets with the main channel) were large and confused for a small boat.  I had to keep the boat going into them so that we did not broach. Initially it was not too bad and the engine reliably kept us in the right direction.  As hit we hit some of the larger waves they came up and over the boat drenching Bev with the rather chilly water of the sounds.  I was concentrating too hard to worry about it.  On hitting those large waves the boat almost stopped and I feared that the engine would give out.  Finally we were through the worst of it with a sea that one moment had us surfing and the next had the nose digging in sending spray over both of us.   We tried to attract the attention of a boat full of men with long straggly beards and fishing caps.  I did not want to stop and they looked blankly at us for a while and then just carried on.  I kept within swimming distance of the shore just in case it all really went to custard.  The seas moderated eventually and we slowly got closer to the marina in Waikawa Bay.  The engine did not miss a beat apart from being underpowered so I was thanking the Yamaha motor manufacturers for turning out such a good engine despite running on one cylinder. 

After hauling the boat out of the water and taking it for a hose down, I took the cover off the engine and discovered that a spark plug lead had come off.  Stupid me - I never thought of that.  I put it back on and it sounded as healthy as ever. 

Throughout the drama Bev could not quite make up her mind as to whether to panic or not but she decided that since I did not appear too worried that all would be ok.

It was nice to get back to my mother’s place, fillet the fish, settle down with a glass of wine, recount the excitement of the day and most importantly enjoy a delicious meal of fresh blue cod.

Apricots: a new experience and a taste of summer

For me summer is not only long, warm days but the fresh stone fruit; peaches, apricots, nectarines, cherries and berries of all sorts.  One of the joys of going to Marlborough during early January is that apricots and nectarines are beginning to ripen and often one of the few orchards left will throw open their gates and have pick-your-own fruit. 

So it was that the apricots were ready when Bev and I arrived in Picton in early January.   

An apricot about to be devoured

There is an orchard with relatively old trees a few kilometres north of Blenheim.  We took my mother and on a very hot afternoon we went picking.  The trees were loaded with fruit, and it was tree ripened. I was picking some to take back to Wellington and also helping my 87 year old mother to get apricots which she was going to preserve. 

Bev had never been apricot picking before so it was a magical experience for her.  She quickly learnt to select firm fruit to keep for later (and for which to pay) while frequently finding a ripe apricot which just begged to be eaten (we probably should have been weighed when we took our buckets for weighing and paying).  I, too, was doing much the same.  In no time we had several buckets full of fruit.  The smile in the picture gives some idea of the joy which one woman was experiencing that very warm summery afternoon. 

Near the orchard (about 10 kms away) is a winery that only opens its shop during summer and only during the week.  As it was Friday it seemed to be an opportune time to visit Clos Henri to get a bottle of one of his superb wines.  He is a vigneron from Sancerre in France who makes some the best wines in that area and has brought that influence to the terroir of Marlborough and makes some of the most distinctive sauvignon blancs of the region.  It is a beautiful setting and the shop is in a deconsecrated church.  I splashed out and bought a pinot noir and a sancerre before we went back to Picton for a welcome glass of cool sauvignon blanc.  

Clos Henri

Coastal Pacific: relaxed travel to Picton

We started our day very early as we had to be at Christchurch Station for  the Coastal Express to Picton at 6:40am.  Our wonderful airBnB  host Terre had prepared and cooked us breakfast so we were properly fed by the time we boarded the train. (Our host even drove us to the station!) It left on time at 7am.  

The train took us north through Christchurch and as we traveled along the cloud cleared to a bright sunny day.  It is some time since I traveled on a long distance train in New Zealand and this train was a revelation.  It had good legroom between the seats, they managed to keep the temperature comfortable and it was quiet and smooth on our narrow gauge.  The service was available when you wanted it and they did it efficiently and with a smile.  You could even get a quality coffee which was a change from earlier years.   What’s more the carriages were built in New Zealand – we can do quality if people are given the opportunity. 

North Canterbury toward the Cheviot Hills

After leaving Christchurch there was a brief stop at Rangiora before the train started heading into North Canterbury where the plains gave way to the open valley and foothills of the area between Waipara and Cheviot.   It was very dry with the golden fields interrupted by the vineyards of Waipara and the hedges and trees around some of the paddocks.  There were some sheep and cattle but I guess many of them were sheltering from the sun.  It looked very peaceful and tranquil.  

In the carriage, however,it became less so as there was someone watching a movie or something on some device.  It was highly intrusive and Bev and I wondered if someone was going to ask them to turn it down or put some headphones on.  Finally, in the absence of another brave soul doing anything I wandered up the carriage and saw it was a young boy sitting with his mother who was responsible for the noise. 

I said to the woman, who was clearly middle class (I , that we were finding the noise from the iPad very intrusive and asked politely if she could either turn it down or put some headphones on her son.

“No, I can’t do that because I don’t know how to do it and I don’t have any headphones.”

 “I have a spare set that I could give to  you,” I replied.

“The iPad does not have a hole  for plug so I can’t do that!” she responded, clearly put out that someone would dare ask her such a thing.

“I am sure it has a place where you can plug the earphones in and, if not, it is easy enough to turn it down,” I continued, “and I am happy to help you.”

“Do you  want to have the five year old hanging from the railing?” she haughtily responded in a most uncooperative way. 

At that point I gave up and wandered back to my seat and muttered to Bev about the mother having too much money and status, and clearly not someone who likes to be even politely asked her to think of other people.

The people across the aisle said “thanks very much “ in a loud voice commenting that they too were finding the racket intrusive.  Then an Englishman turned around and loudly said how awful it was and how thoughtless she was.  I think she would have heard snatches of that. 

 

Given that Bev and I were not the only ones feeling that way I thought grumpily that I would get someone in authority to speak to her that given that my grey haired bald head  and general demeanour had not been authoritative enough.  

When I explained the situation to the staff member and what I had tried to do she understood immediately and said she would talk with the woman.

What a difference that made!  There was an initial protest and then a flurry of activity, headsets were arranged someone in front of the woman in question who seemed to be traveling with her began to help. The noise vanished and everyone sighed in relief. 

 

A little later the Englishman came back and told me that his wife had not been there when I began the process and asked what had happened.  He told her that someone had asked the woman to turn it down and she had refused and that the person had sought help from the crew.  She asked if it was a Kiwi who had done this.  He said yes and then commented to me that in the UK no-one would ask as they would be too scared and would sit quietly seething.   I was not fearful (perhaps thanks to beta blockers) but it was terribly uncomfortable doing it, especially when I got a hostile and uncooperative response. 

The rest of journey went well with wonderful views of the North Canterbury landscape, before following the Conway River to the coast.  I have only seen this area in the dark so I had no idea what it looked like.  It was a very new experience.  We then followed the Kaikoura coast with the Pacific Ocean sparkling from the sun on day with clear blue skies.  There was virtually no wind so it looked spectacular.  We stopped briefly in Kaikoura where there was just enough time to get out and stretch our legs before heading off on our way.

My turn to take pictures please

The train continued along the Kaikoura coast for another forty minutes or so before heading inland.  Most people couldn't resist getting up from their seats and going to the last carriage that was open to the elements.  Here people got blasted by the fresh air whilst getting some great photo opportunities. It was quite exhilarating. They also got to catch glimpses of seals on the rocks and dolphins frolicking in the surf. 

Kaikoura Coast

The train goes through Lake Grassmere where the heat and wind combines to make it and ideal place in which to harvest sea salt.  We saw the pink ponds where the water is a very concentrated saline solution, the pink colour coming from some algae. 

This is a train ride I can recommend.  It takes a bit longer than driving from Christchurch but the views are stunning and it is a comfortable way to spend a bit over five hours.   

Lake Grassmere salt ponds

Raw salt

Awatere Vineyards

Near Ward, Marlborough

 

Christchurch: a city survives

The morning after my birthday celebration it was an early start to get to the airport for our flight to Christchurch.  It is a very quick flight to Christchurch and we were able to pick up our car and be on our way by mid-morning.

The "Bubble Car"

We had intended to go to Akaroa after having a look around Christchurch as I had not been to either since the big earthquake in 2011.  Public transport probably was not going to be very useful so I found the cheapest car I could at Thrifty Car Rentals.  It was described as a small “Metro car”.  The mirth that erupted when Bev saw our small bubble car was something to behold.  Unfortunately time was not going to permit a trip to Akaroa as it was just going to be too far and not allow us to look around Christchurch.

Our first stop was the airBnB place we had booked because it was close to the station in Addington.  When we arrived the host also burst into laughter when he saw our tiny car but I pointed out that we had managed to fit our two overnight bags in the boot!

We went to the New Brighton Pier and watched people fishing before heading to Sumner where it was possible to see the ongoing effects of the earthquake. On the cliffs there were houses which were hanging over the cliff because the cliff had fallen away.  At the base of the cliffs were houses that had long been abandoned.  Containers lined the road; obviously to stop rocks and boulders crashing onto passing cars and to protect some the houses on the other side of them. Everywhere there was evidence of houses having been repaired. It was rather surreal  and hard to imagine what it must have been like for those who had to abandon their houses and those more fortunate ones who didn't.

Where the cinema once was in Lyttleton

In Lyttleton we had lunch and a wander around the business area which had been devastated.  There were empty lots everywhere where clearly buildings of some sort had once stood.  On the main street there were gaps and also some good news stories where a building such as the one in which we had lunch had somehow survived.    It was clearly strongly reinforced despite being brick.

We took Dyers Pass Rd back to Christchurch, which resulted in a fit of hysterics from Bev as the car screamed in protest climbing the hill to a place called Sign of the Kiwi.  That place is  now closed due essential earthquake repairs.  There were quite a few people there looking out over Christchurch and quite a few cyclists riding on the roads. 

The Tannery

There is a place called The Tannery which I had heard about and we found where it was and went there.  It is a new shopping centre that is in an old Tannery.  It was interesting to see places that are not in the centre of the city or in a major residential area become viable due to the earthquake. The Tannery is very well done with lots of boutique stores.  

New Regent Street

Container shops

We  then returned to the centre of the city or at least where it once way.  The trams are running a circuit to Hagley Park from New Regent Street and back with New Regent Street remarkably being still in much the same condition as when I was last here.  Somehow  a number of the older buildings had survived.  We took a tram ride which was very expensive but we justified it on the basis that it was supporting the city.  We spent about an hour wandering around.  For me what I noticed was how many of the old landmarks had disappeared.  Everywhere there are empty lots.  Amazingly the old Post Office still survives whereas across Cathedral Square the Cathedral is wreck.  Near Ballantyne' s there are container shops which are very cute and do provide a place for people to be seen and to shop, but apart from a couple of hotels there is very little of what would be termed a central city area. Everywhere building is now beginning but there are also buildings to still to be demolished.  Victoria Square is there but there are none of the buildings that used to surround it.  There was a very nice looking hotel called the Crowne Plaza on one side of it which is now completely gone.  At least the Arts Centre still stands and is in the process of being repaired and strengthened.   We were both shocked by the devastation and while I had seen it on TV I don’t think that until one has been there that it is possible to comprehend the scale of the devastation. 

Christchurch always seemed to me to be a place without a strong beating heart in the same sense that Wellington has a very vibrant centre. With the central business area having relocated to the suburbs there does seem to be that vibrant busy centre that most sizeable cities have.   It just feels like a massive series of joined up suburbs, perhaps a little like Los Angeles.  Addington, where we stayed now consisted of a few low rise office buildings and several restaurants was illustrative of what had happened. 

The mortally damaged Cathedral in the background

More open space

Part of Cathedral Square