March 15

Sunday morning in Invercargill is foggy. We make our way to the local airport where we’ll be leaving the rental car during our two nights in Stewart Island. We have arrived early for our 9:30AM flight, and the nice young attendant who checks our bags informs us the flight will be delayed a “short while” due to the fog. The terminal is small, but at least has a small coffee and snack counter, so we get hot beverages, settle in and fog watch. We have a nice chat with two young men from Germany who’ll be sharing the flight. They are planning an eight day trek around the north half of the island. We are all impatient to leave but the fog is slow to lift due to the lack of wind. We hear that the weather on the island is warm and sunny, making us all the more eager to go. After about three hours we get to board the small twin prop plane. The baggage checker leads us to the plane and we soon discover that he is also the pilot. We are belted and taxiing down the runway, when again we are delayed again due to reports of fog at sea. Back to the terminal, and getting hungry, back to the lunch counter. Another hour passes, then back on the plane and soon up and away, flying over the fog. The flight takes less than twenty minutes and from the air, we are able to see this beautiful gem of an island . Just before landing at the airstrip. we fly over Half Moon Bay and the village of Oban. We land with a bump and then efficiently bused to the village where we are met by Donn. He drives us to his charming rental house, appropriately named “Home with a View”. From here, perched upon the hillside we do indeed have a glorious view of the crescent shaped bay and village.

After a snack we do a quick tour of Oban than to a trailhead which leads us through rainforest on well maintained paths until we emerge at another bay and amazing views of the wide Paterson Inlet dotted with many small islands, all virtually uninhabited by humans, and some that are protected habitats for a variety of native bird species.

Our activity for the evening is a boat excursion out to one of these islands with the hope of seeing a kiwi bird in it’s native surroundings. Our boat captain, Philllip, is a biologist who has studied the kiwi and is the local expert on the bird. His boat leaves at sunset as we join a dozen other nature lovers for the 30 minute ride to the secluded beach. We hike from the beach along a muddy trail through rainforest, lit only be by our headlamps. The forest is completely silent except for occasional bird sounds and our noisy tramping. After walking 15-20 minutes, seeing very little, we remember something called a snipe hunt. The snipe is an extinct bird, the hunt for which is an exercise in futility. Soon enough though, the trail opens onto a beach, under a clear, star filled sky. We can see the Southern Cross for the first time. Our little band follows Phillip slowly and silently down the beach illuminated only by his single searchlight. I must admit to some excitement that we would soon the little flightless little bird. And there one was, standing on the beach, working hard to get a meal. We stood motionless, silently watching the bird, which looked ghostly in the searchlight beam. We later found a second kiwi, to no surprise, also looking for food. The bonus of the night was seeing the nearly full moon rise in a glowing ball over a nearby island. Then we trek back on the beach, through the forest, and finally back to the boat for a brisk moonlight cruise to the port in Oban.