Volume V. No. 1

SEPTEMBER 1992

(-phile: {Greek--philos, loving} meaning one who loves, likes, or is favorably disposed to. Webster)

SPRING TOUR OF NZ GARDENS AND OTHER ATTRACTIONS

New Zealand, renowned for Its clean, green image and pristine countryside, also has some of the most picturesque gardens In the South Pacific area. Timed for the peak of spring when New Zealand gardens will be in full bloom, the NZ Central Reservations Office is offering a New Zealand Spring Garden and Best Sights Tour this October 29-November 16, 1992.

The 19-day tour led by Dr. Ellen Henke, America's "Plant Doctor", will visit both North and South Islands, and features a day at the New Plymouth spring celebration, the Taranaki Rhododendron Festival, Nov. 1-10. Included is an overnight stay on a farm in the Waikato region with a New Zealand family chosen especially for their hospitality and their scenic garden.

Dr. Henke will introduce the group to some of the country's best private and public gardens and sight- seeing attractions. Highlights include ....

Rotorua, the cultural center of New Zealand's native people the Maori. This is also a region of intense thermal activity. Sightseeing here will include visits to the Maori Arts and Crafts Institute, Whakarewarewa Thermal Reserve, and a garden where natural thermal steam is used for the commercial cultivation of orchids.

Christchurch, the country's "Garden City", is the largest city in the South Island, and Is a delightful mix of English-style buildings, lovingly tended private gardens, and numerous public gardens. The tour will visit some of New Zealand's most attractive public gardens Including the historic Mona Vale and the Christchurch Botanic Gardens.

Queenstown, nestled on the shores of an alpine lake, is one of the top tourist spots in NZ. From here the group will enjoy the thrills of jetboating on the Shotover River and a cruise on the tranquil waters of Milford Sound.

Dr. Ellen Henke, noted botanist and contributing editor for Flower & Garden Magazine, has appeared on CBS, CNN, the Donahue Show and other top TV shows. She has traveled extensively in NZ visiting gardens, meeting people and exploring scenic wonders.

The New Zealand Spring Garden and Best Sights Tour costs $3685 per person, twin-share basis, and includes round-trip air fare from Los Angeles, 16 nights lodging, some meals, tour escort, and ground transportation.

For further information and bookings, please call:

New Zealand Central Reservations Office, (800) 351- 2317 CA or (800) 351-2323 US.

STRANDED WHALES

Approximately 400 people in Auckland, Tauranga, Whitianga, and Raglan have been trained by Project Jonah to help rescue stranded whales. These rescuers range in age from school children to pensioners. Eighty percent are women.

More than 4,000 whales have been beached along New Zealand's long coastline during the past twenty years. Steve Whitehouse, once involved in the NZ Department of Conservation whale rescue effort, created Project Jonah 18 years ago for the purpose of training volunteers in the rescue work.

Steve says, "We've got to have people who know what they're doing." In the past those lacking knowledge have tragically hampered the work. "A lot of people do their own thing instead of people working together. The whole secret of whale rescue is coordination."

The course consists of four hours of theory, videos of whale strandings, information on why it happens and possible ways to prevent it. Two hours are spent in the water learning to use the whale rescue pontoons created by Project Jonah in 1985. A 15-page manual on the practical side of whale rescue, written by Steven Whitehouse, is given to each participant in the class.

Whitehouse believes it's realistic these days to expect 90% success rate at strandings. His enthusiasm and concern for the gentle mammals has not lessened during eighteen years of work with them. They cry out just like kids, he says. "They're just as helpless as little kids and I want to help them."

NEW ZEALAND - IN SEARCH OF THE SOUTHERN ARK

When New Zealand broke tree from

Gondwanaland some 80 million years ago it was in essence an ark carrying ancient flora and fauna that is now found nowhere else in the world.

The arrival of man, 1,000 years ago, has brought changes, but much of New Zealand has been conserved in its natural stale with the result that there are endless opportunities for visitors to discover its unique scenic wonders.

Southern Heritage Tours, one of the country's leading ecotourism travel companies, is offering a series of natural history tours this summer (winter in the northern hemisphere), with departures November through March. Called In Search of the Southern Ark. visitors can choose from three 5-day tours or combine them to make a 10 or 15-day tour.

Each 5-day tour, with a maximum of 15 group members, is led by a professional naturalist who will provide a full commentary on the natural history of NZ.

Daily field trips are followed by informal evening lectures. This is a tour for those who wish to do more than just look. Participants will take part in activities and sightseeing exclusive to these 5-day tours.

Tours begin in New Zealand, and prices include travel by luxury coach, accommodations, three meals a day, and lecture notes.

For further information and bookings, please call: New Zealand Central Reservations Office, 800- 351-2317 CA or 800 351-2323 US.

A PAPER ISSUE

(From PACIFIC WAY)

Less than 30 per cent of the world's paper is recycled, yet a recent Swedish study estimates that a waste paper recycling rate of 75 per cent is possible.

A Dunedin NZ couple Liz Abbott and Peter Harris are doing something about it. They have developed the Papermakers Paper Recycling Kit, based on traditional Chinese papermaking methods. The kit enables people to create recycled paper in their own home.

"We each throw out around three trees worth of paper each year--maybe our kit will help people look at their rubbish in a new light," says Harris.

Abbott, who has an honours diploma in paper- making and printmaking, spent a year researching papermaking techniques. She developed a simple method for the kit which uses only waste paper and water. The kit includes sturdy, reusable equipment and straightforward instructions. It also offers ideas on how to create cards, envelopes, masks and even three- dimensional sculptures.

The kit is made in New Zealand and is packaged in a recyclable cardboard box. It can be used to recycle almost any kind of paper and can produce wafer thin sheets or thick cardboard,

Recycled paper can be made in about an hour, though ideally more time should be allowed for soaking the ripped paper and drying the new sheets.

The kit will be sold in stationery and environmental stores throughout New Zealand.

OVERSEAS JOBS

One young traveler spent time not long ago on a New Zealand farm.

"I ended up working there picking fruit and vegetables, and running the stall, living with the family, and getting $100 a week for six weeks, plus a $200 bonus for staying over the Easter weekend."

This and other experiences are detailed in Work Your Way Around the World, by Susan Griffith ($16.95) as published by a British company called Vacation Work. New Zealand is one of the more than forty countries covered in the 432-page book.

Readers will find information in the book on how to volunteer to work on an archeological dig, and how to supplement their incomes by joining a family as a live-in helper (au pair).

Another Vacation Work publication is Overseas Summer Jobs ($14.95) which lists employers who offer short-term jobs in forty countries. Jobs range from hotel, recreation and farming work to office positions.

These books are distributed in the US by Peterson Guides.

The Council on International Education Ex- change has compiled the 1992-93 edition of Work. Study. Travel Abroad--The Whole World Handbook (St. Martin's Press). Copies are available through retail bookstores or can be ordered from CJ.E.E., Publications Dept., 205 E. 42nd St., New York NY 10017. Include $12.95 for the book, plus applicable state sales tax and postage ($1.50, or $3.50 for first class).

SALESMAN FROM DOWN UNDER

(From Los Angeles Times)

WORRIED ABOUT MORE RIOTS?

WHAT ABOUT THE FUTURE IN SO. CAL.?

Learn About Living in New Zealand From a

Former California Resident:

You too can live where the:

- air and water are clean

- landscape is green

- real estate is affordable

- cost of insuring the average auto is US$200 per year

- fishing, golf, skiing, boating, tennis, etc. is

- banks currently pay 8% per annum

- population density is low

- streets are safe and clean

- police don't carry guns

(cont.)

- cost of total private health insurance is US$8001 year per couple

- investment returns are better

- rate of Inflation is less than 1% per annum

VOICE OF A KIWI - By Richard Croft

Twizel is unique in that it owes its existence to hydro-electric development. The potential had long been known, but it was the insatiable post-war demand for power that led the Government to prepare plans which involved damming and raising the level of three major lakes, the digging of many miles of canals to convey large volumes of water, and the construction of 8 power stations producing about 2 million kw's of electricity. At the peak of construction Twizel had a population of more than 6,000 with every facility that modern town planning could provide.

The work force moved on many years ago, but the town survives; the houses and buildings sold off to private ownership. The once bare monotonous crescents of similar style homes have been broken by the planting of some 90,000 conifers and other shrubs, and a 1.5 million tree planting scheme for the basin is almost complete. There are excellent recreational facilities for fishing, golf, and boating, and good accommodations. Nearby Lake Ohau is another glacial lake wedged in the mountains behind, while a dam on the Ohau River has created a small artificial lake, Ruataniwha, which is ideal for boating and is used as a national and international rowing venue.

An early surveyor described the area as a dreary wilderness, forbidding and sterile but magnificently picturesque. The contrast of hostility and wild beauty still remains. North of Twizel look up over the milky-blue waters of Lake Pukaki past the Ben Ohau Range and you may gain a glimpse of 12,000 ft. Mount Cook. The highway skirts the lake edge to end at the village by the Hermitage Hotel. This resort is a base for winter sports and is the headquarters of the Mt. Cook National Park Board which administers the rugged and spectacular surroundings.

On previous visits to the park I had only once gained a full sight of the mountain. It was at the end of a 3-day vacation. I had had similar experiences with the Matterhorn and the Jungfrau in Switzerland and I was in despair. A low, damp mist hung near the ground while windborne swirling clouds raced across the range. Then without warning the clouds began to lift upwards, and there at the end of the valley, like a richly-robed primadonna making a triumphant stage entrance, stood Mt. Cook--Aorangi "the cloud piercer" to the native Maori. Clothed in gleaming white snow and streaked by a few shafts of late afternoon sunlight, it was breathtaking and unforgettable. Within half an hour the dark clouds descended again suddenly and the air chilled. The stage was bare; the performance was over.

On this occasion, so many years later, I didn't drive the 35 miles to the village. The morning was brilliantly fine and there was Aorangi with its retinue of attendant peaks in full, unobstructed view. On the way across the plains to Tekapo I stopped several times at wayside lookouts to gaze at the mountain from some new aspect. I may never be as fortunate again, but I am satisfied.

Tekapo resort village straggles alongside Hwy 8, but it is the milky-turquoise blue of the glacier-fed lake which catches the attention. At 2,300 ft., it is also at the highest altitude of all the Southern Lakes. This is Mackenzie Country, named after the famous, or infamous, Scottish sheep stealer whose sheep-rustling exploits became part of high country folklore in the 1850's as the pioneer run-holders sought to stock their land.

I drank my fill of the rich, sharp, clear mountain air over the next two days, strolling among the tall stands of aromatic pines and alongside the lake. In the late afternoon I mingled with the tourists in the little tavern. Then it was time to move on to Timaru, some 60 miles away. Soon after, at Burke's Pass, the long, steep descent down the valley to Fairlie commences. The transforma- tion is once again visually quite startling from the dry expanse of the red-brown tussock plain to a lovely, rich, green, wooded valley, and on to Fairlie, market town for the fertile pastoral and grain-growing lowlands which surround it. For nearly a century it was an important rail- head. The long wide main Street iS shaded by a row of lovely mature English trees, part of an Avenue of Peace planted after WW1 as a war memorial.

Pleasant Point is soon in sight at the junction of the Opihi and Tengawai Rivers, and a few miles further on, Canterbury's second city Timaru. In the early 1800's whalers established a station here but it soon failed. The Rhodes brothers were persuaded to take an interest in the area by one of the whalers and they drove sheep from their extensive holdings in the north down across the plains to take up land at the Levels, north of where the city now stands. Then they shrewdly free-holded 125 acres for 60 pounds, and this is where the business area was to be established. There are no natural harbours on this 200-mile stretch of coastline, and a port was badly needed. After many years of wrangling, in which time an unenviable reputation was gained for shipwrecks, a breakwater was finally built and a large artificial harbour created.

Timaru is now a busy and prosperous port city with every modern facility. The focal point is Caroline Bay with its fine parks and gardens fronted by a lovely wide beach unwittingly formed by shoaling sands to the north of the breakwater, The Christmas/New Year carnival attracts thousands of holidaymakers for all the fun of the fair in summer. I worked and lived here in the early '60's and was tempted to make a home and a life in this dry, sunny climate, but as always, I found it hard to settle and moved on again.

I took State Hwy 1 several days later north to Winchester, and branched off onto Hwy 72 to avoid the long uninteresting flat stretches that lead to Christchurch

80 miles away. Little Geraldine, as pretty as its name, lies nearby, dotted with old English trees and homes on little lots crammed with beds of flowers. Quiet, peaceful, unhurried, just. as the world should be. There are some people who can adapt to the beauty of the wild, untamed landscape, but those brave souls who first abandoned their familiar, ordered English scene to settle in a new and alien land experienced crushing homesickness. In an attempt to alleviate its very real pain, they lost no time in establishing on their new soil the style of buildings, the trees, the flowers, the animals, and even the birds they had known and loved in the Old Country. But there could never be a real duplication- here there was so much more open space. The neat, small, intensively cultivated holdings of rural England measured in tens of acres could here be measured in hundreds or even thousands of acres.

Travel on from Geraldine and you soon cross the Orari, the first of a series of snow-fed rivers which rise in the eastern foothills of the Alps, tumbling down through steep gorges into the lower valleys and out across the plain. The famed Canterbury Plain in the early days was a travellers nightmare. Large tracts were dry and gravelly, and those parts that were not arid were swamp. Bridg ing the rivers, some up to a mile wide, stretched the resources and ingenuity of the local authorities. Today the metamorphosis is complete: the Plain. some 200 miles

long by 40 or more miles wide, is a patchwork of alternating fields of pasture, fodder and cereal crops with belts of trees along the boundaries to afford some protection from the fierce, dry norwesterly gales which often whip down from the mountains.

Irrigation has been a major component in the continuing prosperity of the region and thousands of miles of water races criss- cross the plains to help sustain the crops and to supplement the comparatively meagre rainfall.

Along Hwy 72 numerous gravel sideroads lead off into the remote back country where you can camp. tramp, fish in the well-stocked waters, or just laze and take in the scenery. Little Methven is developing into a winter sports centre and the nearby Mt. Hutt skifield is one of the country's best-equipped playgrounds.

It was a glorious autumn morning with just a hint of frost in the air when I left Methven to free-wheel along the broad flat to Mt. Hutt, then down the hill to the Rakaia Gorge and the river which flows under the high bridge. At the top of the hill, at Windwhistle, memories were stirred as I recalled the times I had spent as a youthful 18- year-old roustabout with sheep shearing gangs. I could picture the big old shearing shed with its raised, slatted pens and the line of sweating shearers at work on the board. The occasional curse as an old ewe struggled to free herself as the clacking shears hacked away at the heavy, matted fleece. There was an overpowering smell of sheep (lung and lanoline heavy in the warm, enclosed air. Then finally the end of another day and a quick sluice over the washtub before heading for the cookhouse to

gorge on whatever bounty the cook had provided. Most of us were dropping into our bunks soon after 9--it was physically exhausting work.

Saturday afternoon was cleanup time at the shed and washing day at the bunkhouse. Occasionally, as war- time austerity still prevailed, some of us would throw a bridle over a station hack and ride off to the nearest village dance to wow or woo the local farmers' daughters. It was great to be young and free, without any real worry in the world.

The dusty, winding gravel road will take you west from Windwhistle about 10 miles to Lake Coleridge where the first large state hydro-electric station was built in 1911. The lake is in the middle of a huge basin surrounded by high mountains, and melting snows feed half a dozen scree-filled rivers forming the headwaters of the Rakaia. Nearby, tiny Lake, Ida is one of several lakes which freeze over in winter to provide excellent skating. The short road north of Coleridge takes you on to the main Hwy 73 and further west to Arthur's Pass.

I was satiated with clean mountain air; I had had a surfeit of visual inspiration and lonely backroads, so perhaps it was time to head for sea level again and the Garden City. Variety, after all, is the spice of life. Who said "everything in life is somewhere else and you get there in a car"?

"AS YOU GO" MINI DIARY--by Margy Gates

We're here! At the moment "here" is the rail station in Hamilton, waiting for the train to Wellington where we'll have an overnight and then take the early ferry to Picton, I prebooked our car for the 24th and then we ended up not actually getting here until the 20th, so we are racing.

Several days later: A day and a half in Rotorua-- more heavy rain and the two of us running about with no car. Down to the Maori meeting house on the lake and the adjoining church with the Christ in Maori cloak, then up the hill past the hospital for a jug of beer and a look at the local pool pros. Then back to the hostel and back to the meeting house for an evening concert. We are getting into good shape. The youth hostels are really great. The one in Rotorua has a hot pool (chlorine, not mineral, but very nice), and it's very local--a block from the Polynesian pools, Government Center and Museum as well as the market. Wellington's YH is in a hotel downtown. They bought the whole hotel (we were on the 4th floor with a private bath and cushy beds, reached by elevator.

Next--I'm writing from Havelock YH -homey and comfortable, occupying a Rutherford schoolhouse built in 1882. The weather has turned beautiful and we were luckily here on Wednesday, the day of the longest mail boat run to the outer sounds. Tomorrow we will rent canoes and time our trip downriver into the sound with the tides so that our return trip coincides with the incoming tide. Tonight Peter, the YH manager, brought a bucket of green -lipped mussels from the factory here

and we learned how to clean, cook, and eat them with different sauces.

Actually--the trip was changed. We walked the 2-man canoe over some small rapids and wandered down an idyllic waterway, the Pelorus River, which gradually got windy at the inlet to the sound. There were many black swans, paradise ducks, heron. The last stretch across the bay to the manna was the third hour of rowing and we were feeling very exercized after hiking up the hill to the local pub for a short draft of D.B. I highly recommend the activities organized by the family who run the Havelock (Rutherford) Hostel: Peter and Diane Pannel and son Aaron, 2 Clive St., Havelock.

Tomorrow we leave for Nelson and some visits with potters. Then on to Westport and down the west coast with lots of beachcombing, I hope.

Per Charles: I'm amazed at how considerate and friendly people are here. As we were canoeing past a farm, the farmer stopped his tractor to ask how we were enjoying ourselves. I can't imagine that happening anywhere else.

FREE ROUND TRIP PLIGHT BETWEEN US & NZ/ AUSTRALIA EXTENDED THRO' NOVEMBER

Air New Zealand Is extending Its "Fly Free" offer from Los Angeles or San Francisco to New Zealand. Passengers who purchase Mount Cook Line's 15-day New Zealand Mystique Vacation will receive a free round- trip Economy Class air ticket on Air New Zealand.

"The response to our original 'fly free' offer has been so overwhelming we wanted to give our passengers an additional opportunity to travel all over Down Under for one economical price," said Timothy Mooney, Air New Zealand marketing communications director.

To book air and land arrangements, contact your local travel agent or Mount Cook Line at 800-342-1956.

NEW ZEALAND'S SUB-ANTARCTIC ISLANDS

Southern Heritage Tours, New Zealand's leading natural history travel company, is offering 5 cruises to the Sub-Antarctic waters of New Zealand and Australia this summer.

Small groups, led by professional naturalists and biologists, will have the opportunity to venture into some of planet earth's last environments uninhabited by man. Landing on these islands, Snares, Aucklands, Campbell, Antipodes, Bounties, and Macquarrie, Is only possible with special permission. Where landing is not permitted the group will enjoy extensive zodiac cruising.

These islands are virtually untouched by man and wildlife abounds. There are 7 species of penguin, royal and wandering albatross, numerous petrels and shearwaters, endemic shags, teal and dotterel. The rare Hooker sea lion, fur seal and elephant seal all breed on these Islands. The flora includes magnificent sub-antarctic daisies and plants found nowhere else in the world.

Southern Heritage Tours offer 15, 13 or 11-day cruises aboard the 140 ft. 488 ton MV Pacific Ruby which carries a crew of 15 including expedition leader, medical officer and professional chef. Cruises depart December through February from the Port of Bluff, New Zealand's southernmost harbor. Prices start at $2,360 per person, inclusive of meals.

For more information and bookings, please call:

New Zealand Central Reservations Office, 800-351-2317 CA or 800-351-2323 US.

NORTHLAND SAILING--by Mike Giannone

Several years ago on our first trip to New Zealand, Linda and I approached the Bay of Islands in the midst of a major rainstorm, the first rain we had experienced after a couple of exciting weeks of discovery. I had chartered a sailboat to explore the nooks and crannies of the "winter- less North" and had been looking forward to the experience of sun, sand, and water as a climax to what was turning out to be a memorable vacation. But as the wipers rattled noisily across the windscreen, stuck in a traffic jam (only one we had encountered) on Route 1 near Whangarei, I was not in a particularly good frame of mind.

We had driven across North and South Islands in brilliant sunshine. Even at Milford Sound ("...one of the wettest spots on earth") we were treated to a cloudless sky and sparkling water! Now, here we were headed for a vacation playground and were facing...this! Sailing in the rain is not one of Linda's favorite activities and at this point I wasn't thrilled with the prospect either. Luckily, Rainbow Charters in Opua was flexible and willing to de- lay the start of the cruise so our only immediate problem was shelter for a couple of days. We drove the short dis- tance to Paihia and stopped at the Bay of Islands Information Center. They placed us in a vacation home at a ridiculously low price, even though it was only for a 2-day stay and with no reservations! New Zealand hospitality and convenience was starting to dispel my gloom. It is practically impossible as a traveler to remain negative in this country for very long.

Over those next couple of days Paihia and the Bay of Islands completely won us over. The sun resumed its normal place in the sky. Cumulus clouds chased across a verdant landscape, and this sub-tropical island paradise showed its true nature. Sheltered within the protecting headlands of Cape Brett and Cape Wiwiki, dozens of islands with innumerable bays and anchorages beckon the traveler to golden sands and turquoise waters. In 1769 Captain James Cook and the crew of the Endeavour felt much the same, although they only stayed about a week. Between the casual pace of living, many activities to choose from, and new-found friends in the Paihia Volunteer Fire Brigade, this will always remain a MUST stop for us on our periodic returns to NZ.

So it was in March of 1990, as I picked up my latest boat at Rainbow for another sail through the Bay.

Blue Safari is a 34-foot Bruce Farr design sloop with six berths and standing headroom and is well equipped to handle any type of sailing the Bay demands. (On our first couple of trips, we had a 24 footer which was very comfortable for two). After the familiarization demonstration by the very capable Rainbow staff, I set off by myself to pick up the rest of my crew (Linda, Amy, and Barbara Traviss) at Paihia's Main Wharf. This is only a few miles away down Veronica Channel, but I was delayed somewhat by an errant dinghy (who tied that knot?), and by the time I reached the pickup point, a combination of ebbing tide, wave action, and a 5 foot draft kept me from getting next to the dock. Not to worry. Some gallant fishermen came to the ladies' aid and ferried them out to the "yacht" in their small rowboat.

With my crew on board I swung around and headed toward Tapeka Point. I should mention at this time that crew" is a very generous term and that "passengers" would be a better descriptive. It's not that any of them are grossly incompetent, but "sailors" they are not. Linda thinks of my boats generally as wonderful, mobile chaise lounges which have the added atiraction of also having food and drink aboard. Amy, while a good athlete, really had no concept of port, starboard, tacking, gybing, etc. (although she just recently soloed in a Cessna 152 and has come a long way). Barbara had a few days off from her shop, was able to come along, and...see Linda description above. True to form, while they were busily breaking out the refreshments, I was judging how long I could continue to dodge the rain squalls that seemed to be converging from several different directions. Right about the rime the cheese and crackers were deployed the skies opened up.

Thirty minutes later it was still raining and Tapeka Point had disappeared in the mist. I knew that this would eventually clear up (afternoon rain showers are not rare, but are seldom long in duration), and all would be fine by the time we reached the planned anchorage for the evening. Unfortunately my passengers were disgruntled by the weather and, my assurances ignored, demanded that I return them to civilization and a dry veranda from which to enjoy the sub-tropical evening. The British Navy would have called this a mutiny, but being out- numbered and not wishing to be cast adrift like Captain Bligh, I reluctantly complied with their wishes.

By 7 PM I had returned them to the wharf. Like any good captain I chose to remain with my ship. I told them I would anchor for the night and if they changed their minds in the morning to signal me from shore. Otherwise this was going to be a solo sail. As predicted, the clouds and rain broke in time for a pleasant sunset and even though it wasn't Opunga Cove as I had planned, my dinner tasted just fine. (We had anchored at Opunga on an earlier trip, and it is a very pretty, well-protected spot, surrounded by native bush. Pipis [clams] can be gathered along the shore). Be advised, however, that overnight anchorage near Paihia is not recommended in unsettled weather. Holding is poor on a shingle bottom, the water

is shallow, and rocks are scattered around. It is also exposed to a northeasterly swell directly from the far horizon. On this night, though, all was calm and quiet (until midnight when a "happy" band of revelers decided to move their party to Paihia wharf).

I woke to a yellow sunrise and cloudless sky, hung out some damp items to dry on the lifelines and went below to scare up some breakfast. Suddenly the peace was shattered by an ear-splitting boat horn and the sound of diesel engines, VERY CLOSE! I rushed out on deck just in time to see the Russell-Paihia ferry slide by about 10 feet from my stern. In my brilliance, I had anchored in the traffic channel between the two ports. Although the ferry's helmsman was grinning and waving, his message was clear: Move it or lose it! I moved it.

I had my tea and biscuits at a new anchorage a short distance away, and then enjoyed watching the Bay of Islands wake up. Russell is just across the channel (a couple of miles) from Paihia and in its day had been known as the "Hellhole of the Pacific". Whaling ships in the mid-nineteenth century made this a "recreation" port. Its church still bears musketball scars from an 1845 English-Maori conflict, and nearby the legendary Maori chief Hone-Heke practiced his flagpole trimming skills. I suggest you read up on this place in any guidebook, but be assured that its pace of life in the late twentieth century is much, much slower. It is a very enjoyable place to spend some time.

Of course I was anxious to get out into the Bay and, lo and behold, my wife and daughter were enticed by sunshine and balmy breezes to rejoin me. We set off again with a full complement and worked an easterly breeze past Tapeka Point to enter the Bay of Islands proper. Since my planned itinerary was a day off, I decided to run straight for Urupukapuka Island and Indico Bay. It was a magnificent day for sailing as we tacked into a 10- 15 knot NNW breeze under azure skies and through turquoise waters. We skipped by Paroa Bay, the original whalers' anchorage, and where, on an earlier cruise, a friendly Kiwi in his vacation home had lent some sorely needed assistance. Manawaora Bay is the next destination to starboard and contains several pleasant harbors:

Orokawa, TeHue Bay (also called Assassination Cove after the DuFresne incident of 1772--this area really did have an energetic past!), Opunga Bay, and Dicks Bay.

To port several of the larger islands are passed:

Motuarohia, Moturua, and Motukiekie. All three are destinations worth investigating. The central section of narrow Motuarohia is one of the Bay of Islands Maritime & Historic Park's recreation reserves (extensive holdings throughout the region--HQ: Russell) Lagoon Bay is tine for a day anchorage, but due to a shingly, sandy bottom, is not recommended for overnight stays. Behind the beach one can splash in sun-warmed lagoons and explore rocky pools. This island has pine trees covering either end, and the remains of a pa (Maori fortress/village)-- with its typical melancholy/violent Maori legend. (Also a melancholy/violent story about the Pakeha Roberton

family). Moturua is almost totally a scenic reserve, and serves as the Bay of Islands Treasure" Island. Supposedly, here is where a French expedition buried its claim for New Zealand:

"four feet under the earth, at fifty-seven paces from the edge of the sea, reckoning from the high water mark and at ten paces from the little stream."

Needless to say, no one has found this yet. A walking track circles the island which has several interesting stops, including a waterfall! At 99 meters, this is the highest island in the group, and provides excellent views. There are many cozy anchorages around the island (Caution: with northerly winds the eastern side will feel the effects of the swell) and its environs include a rubbish barge and watering buoy. Motukiekie is a rugged little island covered with exotic trees (including Norfolk pines) introduced by two women owners. Best anchorage here in settled conditions is on the southwestern side. Take care near Submarine Rock, about two hundred yards off the southern tip.

In the vicinity of TeRawhiti inlet, I tacked to the WNW to approach Urupukapuka Island. On our last trip, Linda and I only had the chance for a short visit to Oneura (sometimes called Paradise) Bay. We were really taken by the sethng of this mostly open island. Pohutukawa fringed shores of white sand give way to bald, scrub-covered hills. The island was once heavily populated and archeological sites abound. While camping is freely permitted in this Maritime Park-administered island, visitors are urged to take care around historical sites. In the 1920's no less a personage than Zane Grey, the sportsman and writer, established a fishing camp on Otehei Bay in the SW corner. There is a wonderful description of this island in Grey's book Tales of the Angler's Eldorado . Urupukapuka has numerous pretty anchorages including Urupukapuka Bay (fresh water and shower available), Kapurarahurahu Bay (take care to anchor clear of cable), Otehei (respect the private wharf and watch shoaling off western shore), and Paradise (really pretty but poor holding for overnights). We, however, were headed for Indico Bay, a small cove we had glimpsed while hiking on the last trip.

Coming from the south, pass to the west of the islet of Whanga-apau (too shallow between the islet and island), and swing to the east. A low forest, skirted with grass, will be directly in front of you with higher hills to either side. A small stream enters the cove from the NW corner. Indico is a bit shallow, but no particular problem to get in. We anchored at 3 PM to let the tranquility and beauty wash over us. The shore was beckoning for exploration, so the three of us piled into the dinghy and rowed ashore. While I'm sure that this spot is a very popular destination, our footprints were the only ones on the foreshore that afternoon in early March. Linda and Amy were content to just splash along the water's edge and drink in the sun, but I was more interested in following the Maritime Park's guide to the archeological walking

track. The island is only about I by 1.5 miles, so I told my family I was going to take a short walk and be right back. I worked my way through the ti tree forest and reached a fenced pasture a short distance in (many islands support small cow herds on Park property). Following the map, I crossed the pasture and eventually climbed to the high point on the northern edge of the island which had been a pa site. It clearly was a very formidable location on the edge of a 150 foot sheer cliff to the sea. From this spot, a spectacular panorama stretched in all directions. Waewaetorea Channel and Island directly to the NW, the main body of the Bay to the W, islands to the SW, Deep Water Cove and Cape Brett (with Piercy Island) to the NE, and the broad Pacific to the North. To the South and below my location, Blue Safari rode gently at anchor, a toy boat on an aquamarine pond surrounded by emerald hills. It is moments like this that New Zealand uses to hook your soul.

I was shaken out of my trance by noticing that my toy boat had been joined by a few others. The captain in me took over and I hurried back to ensure that my boat was secure in the midst of strangers! Of course, I Couldn't help noticing that the others had anchored noticeably farther back from the beach, no doubt respecting our first arrival. As I was crossing the pasture, my eye picked up several dark shapes in motion on my right. It was soon apparent that an entire herd of cows (about 15-20) was on the move and my nautical eye told me that we were all converging on the same spot.. .the crossing place on the fence line! I wasn't thrilled that the very large black shape in the lead was not a cow, and he seemed to pick up speed to match mine. Luckily this wasn't a clear pasture, and his advance was slowed by having to dodge several clumps of brush. Unfortunately I was not able to dodge several piles of cow patties that liberally covered the hillside. It appeared I would have no problem in reaching the ladder because one major brush clump was directly in the herd's path, but at that moment their in- trepid leader went directly through the scrub towards my position. Adrenaline kicked in and I reached the ladder AT LEAST 10 feet ahead of that sharp pair of headgear. At that instant, just as I reached the other side of the fence, the whole bunch stopped immediately and began to placidly munch grass like nothing had moved them for hours. This began to smell suspiciously like a game, and as I continued my return I thought I detected a sparkle in the leader's eye that convinced me I was not the first wayward sailor that had been "played" with. I resolved to have steak as soon as I returned to port.

Speaking of returning to port, when I worked my way through the forest, crossed the stream, and reached the shore, I was alone. No person or dinghy in sight! Marooned! With sadistic cows no less. As I peered offshore, there was the dinghy neatly tied up to the Blue Safari, about 150 yards out. Nobody was on deck to answer my hails, so there was no alternative but to swim back. Granted, I am no Mark Spitz, but it wasn't that far and besides, it was a refreshing way to cool off after my

"Close encounter of the Bovine Kind" My family had needed to take a comfort break and returned for the ship's facilities.

Adventures past, we all settled in the cockpit with a late afternoon refreshment and once again remarked how polite our surrounding neighbors were by anchoring back from us. My eyes casually took in various aspects of the boat and eventually settled on the depth meter which read 1.4 meters. There was something about that number which was significant, but apparently nothing important. I got up to replenish my cup, tripped over the mainsheet, grabbed the port lifeline to steady myself, and then it hit me. THE BOAT DIDN'T MOVE! On any ship or boat smaller than, say, the USS New Jersey, they move. Up, down, sideways, etc. Remember. when on the water, you are floating. If you don't move, you must be attached to Mother Earth! The earth is rock solid steady (unless of course you live in California).

WHY DIDN'T THIS BOAT MOVE? Suddenly everything clicked into place: The bane of lake sailors-- the TIDE! Tides in the Bay of Islands are slight, between 1.5 - 2 meters. But if you start with a shallow anchorage to begin with, and the tide is going out...a quick check of the tables showed that there was still an hour Left of the ebb. A meter reading 0(1.4 on the depth gauge was important because the transducer is 1.5 meters above the keel. My neighbors may very well have been polite, but better seamanship kept them further off the beach that so enticed me as we entered the cove. Luckily the Bay is very forgiving of average sailors like myself. The bottom is firm sand and we were just slightly aground. I got out into the dinghy, retrieved the anchor, rowed it to deeper water, had the crew run bow to stern to shake us loose, and a combination of diesel inboard and anchor winch got us out where we belonged. A few other things to keep in mind: tidal currents are not very strong, except in a few inlets noted on the chart, and remember that chart depths and heights are in meters.

After all the excitement of this day, Linda's dinner was a welcome respite. We consumed our supper on deck at sundown and discussed our past adventures and experiences on this trip as the Southern Cross and Magellanic Clouds started to appear overhead. I don't quite remember our conversations of that evening, but they ranged far and wide under that Southern sky. There is something magical about the heavens of the Southern Hemisphere. Maybe it is just because it is not the same as the sky at home (although familiar Northern constellations like Orion and Scorpio are visible here- -upside down!). It is fun to try and identify those well known groupings without standing on your head. The Milky Way is wider here, and therefore much more noticeable as a river of stars across the sky. I remember the first time I really looked at the Southern sky. It was in a remote wildlife reserve in Rhodesia, and I felt like I was on an alien planet: the sky just wasn't quite right. But everything was quite right now as we sat there in the darken-

ing twilight. A few meteors streaked across the heavens, and the show was enhanced by a ghostly phosphorescence in the water which mimicked the over- head display with every splash. We slept very well that night.

The rest of the cruise was similar in nature and in the interest of space, I will try to wrap this up. (Other spots of note are Whale Bay, Oke Bay, Parekura Bay, and the Black Rocks of Moturoa Island). To summarize, cruising the Bay of Islands is a highly enjoyable activity available to anyone with a wide range of boating skills. It is relatively easy to navigate, and really rough weather is fairly rare and usually forecast far enough in advance. There are many suitable destinations within the Bay as well as "outside" for more adventurous souls (the Cavalli Islands or Whangamumu Harbor are particularly enjoyable).

If you wish to charter a sail or power boat, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend Rainbow Yacht Charters. I have used them several times and have found them to be professional, friendly, competent, friendly, reasonably priced (very competitive against US levels), with an extensive fleet of sail and power yachts. Did I mention friendly? If boating or saltwater fishing is your thing, or if you would just like to have a shore holiday, by all means head for the "Winterless North"!

TELL THEM YOU SAW IT IN

THE KIWIphile FILE!!!

COMMENTS RE. THE LAST ISSUE

(Editor: Mike Giannone sent in the following comments regarding the June K.F. How I wish other readers would do the same!)

1. BASIC INFORMATION ON NZ TRAVEL -- I pretty much agree with what you've said. For drivers, I would recommend the NZ Automobile Association (AA) Road Atlas of NZ. Excellent maps, articles, pictures, facts and figures. Too large to carry in your suitcase, but they make companion soft cover sectional maps also. For internal air travel within NZ, folks would be wise to check out Anselt. Their Airpass program (buy here in the States) is very competitive against Mt. Cook or ANZ, especially if you don't fly ANZ to the country.

2. VOICE OF A KIWI--What can I say? A great writer. (But Richard obviously likes the Moeraki Boulders more than I do).

3. STRANGERS IN PARADISE--How can anyone who visits NZ be unimpressed? Surely there will be things one does not like, but the environment of this country demands an opinion. Yea or nay, but UNIMPRESSED!

4. TRAVEL TRENDS IN NZ--Couldn't agree more with the trend to driving, but it hasn't stopped the Tourism Board from still heavily emphasizing bus travel in all their glossies. I take strong exception to

the whining complaints regarding paving the Haast Pass Rd. It never was that difficult to begin with, and a fancy, sealed surface wilt detract from the experience of passing through Mt. Aspiring N.P. I hope Transit NZ runs out of money and puts their plans on hold! (What's next--a 4- lane highway in Skipper's?)

5. LETTER BOX--A very enjoyable feature. I hope more of your subscribers at least drop you a note!

6. Hope Yarrows Bakery has a day-old store we can stop in on the way by.

AUCKLAND - KAURI GUM - ( From Following the Equator. A Journey Around the World , by Mark Twain, pub. 1897.

It is from Auckland that one goes to Rotorua, the region of the renowned hot lakes and geysers--one of the chief wonders of New Zealand; but I was not well enough to make the trip. The government has a sanitorium there, and everything is comfortable for the tourist and the invalid. The government's official physician is almost over- cautious in his estimates of the efficacy of the baths, when he is talking about rheumatism, gout, paralysis, and such things; but when he is talking about the effectiveness of the waters in eradicating the whisky habit, he seems to have no reserves. The baths will cure the drinking-habit no matter how chronic it is--and cure it so effectually that even the desire to drink intoxicants will come no more. There should be a rush from Europe and America to that place; and when the victims of alcoholism find out what they can get by going there, the rush wilt

The Thermal-springs District of New Zealand comprises an area of upwards of 600,000 acres, or close on 1,000 square miles. Rotorua Is the favorite place. It is the center of a rich field of lake and mountain scenery; from Rotorua as a base the pleasure-seeker makes excursions. The crowd of sick people is great, and growing. Rotorua is the Carlsbad of Australasia.

It is from Auckland that the Kauri gum is shipped. For a long time now about 8,000 tons of it have been brought into the town per year. It is worth about $300 per ton, unassorted; assorted, the finest grades are worth about $1,000. It goes to America, chiefly. It is in lumps, and is hard and smooth, and looks like amber--the light- colored like new amber, and the dark brown like rich old amber. And it has the pleasant feet of amber, too. Some of the light-colored samples were a tolerably fair counterfeit of uncut South African diamonds, they were so perfectly smooth and polished and transparent. It is manufactured into varnish; a varnish which answers for copal varnish and is cheaper.

The gum is dug up out of the ground; it has been there for ages. It is the sap of the Kauri tree. Dr. Campbell of Auckland told me he sent a cargo of it to England fifty years ago, but nothing came of the venture. Nobody knew what to do with it; so it was sold at 5 pounds a ton, to light fires with.

Nov. 26--3 P.M., sailed. Vast and beautiful harbor. Land all about for hours. Tangariwa, the mountain that "has the same shape from every point of view." That is the common belief in Auckland. And so it has--from every point of view except thirteen... Perfect summer weather. Large school of whales in the distance. Nothing could be daintier than the puffs of vapor they spout up, when seen against the pink glory of the sinking sun, or against the dark mass of an island reposing in the deep blue shadow of a storm-cloud... Great Barrier rock standing up out of the sea away to the left. Sometime ago a ship hit it full speed in a fog--20 miles out of her course--140 lives lost; the captain committed suicide without waiting a moment. He knew that, whether he was to blame or not, the company owning the vessel would discharge him and make a devotion-to-passengers' safety advertisement out of it, and his chance to make a livelihood would be permanently gone.

KIWI DINOSAURS

Joan Wilfen, a New Zealander in her 70's, has gained worldwide recognition for her discovery of dinosaur remains, particularly the fossilized bones she found in the TeHau Valley in the Hawke's Bay area of New Zealand's North Island. Wiffen was ted to the site when she saw "fossils" noted on an oil company exploration map. Apparently dinosaurs roamed in NZ millions of years ago.

Wiffen's book Valley of the Dragons resulted from her discoveries.

CONTRIBUTIONS FROM READERS

We never run out of material for the KIWlphile FILE, but we feel that contributions from readers are more valuable than anything we can write or anything we get from other sources.

PLEASE send in your discoveries about New Zealand, your travel hints, your day-to-day adventuring in the country--whatever you feel would be of help to someone else. Your remarks could be invaluable to another reader.

ALSO we would appreciate your sending in clippings about NZ which would be of interest to others. We can't cover all publications, by any means--so we may be missing a lot of great material. Don't just assume we have already seen it.

MORE ABOUT THE KAKAPO

(The following are excerpts from Last Chance to See , by Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine, published by Harmony Books, a division of Crown Publishers, Inc.)

...Now the kakapo clings to survival on just four small islands off New Zealand's coast. The total population consists of 50 birds. Saving the kakapo has become the number one priority for the NZ Department of Conservation, but certain aspects of the bird's life history create obstacles to its survival.

Of these (flightless birds of NZ), the kakapo is the strangest. Well, I suppose the penguin is a pretty peculiar kind of creature when you think about it, but it's quite a robust kind of peculiarness, and the bird is perfectly well adapted to the world in which it finds itself, in a way that the kakapo is not. The kakapo is a bird out of time. If you look in its large, round, greeny-brown face, it has a look of serenely innocent incomprehension that makes you want to hug it and tell it that everything will be all right, though you know that it probably will not be.

It is an extremely fat bird. A good- sized adult will weigh about six or seven pounds, and its wings are just about good for waggling a bit if it thinks it's about to trip over something--but flying is completely out of the question. Sadly, however, it seems that not only has the kakapo forgotten how to fly, but it has also forgotten that it has forgotten how to fly. Apparently a seriously worried kakapo will sometimes run up a tree and jump out of it, whereupon it flies like a brick and lands in a graceless

heap on the ground.

Most birds faced with a predator, will at least realize that something's up and make a bolt for safety, even if it means abandoning any eggs or chicks in its nest. But not the kakapo. Its reaction when confronted with a predator is that it simply doesn't know what the form is. It has no conception of the idea that anything could possibly want to hurt it, so it tends just to sit on its nest in a state of complete confusion and leaves the other animal to make the next move--which is usually a fairly swift and final one.

The trouble is that this predator business has all happened rather suddenly in New Zealand, and by the time nature starts to select in favour of slightly more nervous and fleet-tooted kakapos, there won't be any left at all, unless deliberate human intervention can protect them from what they can't deal with themselves. It would help if there were plenty of them being born, but this brings us on to more problems. The kakapo is a solitary creature; it doesn't like other animals. It doesn't even like the company of other kakapos. One conservation worker we met said he sometimes wondered if the mating call of the male didn't actively repel the female, which is the sort of biological absurdity you otherwise find only in discotheques. The ways in which the kakapo goes about mating are wonderfully bizarre, extraordinarily long drawn out, and almost totally ineffective.

(Write to K.F. subscriber Rebecca Dennett for info, on efforts to save this gentle creature. 4271 So. 1350 E., Salt Lake City UT 84124).

THE SPIRIT-GUIDE OWL

Our Kiwi friend Margaret Armstrong tells us this true story: Her father's uncle was one-half Maori. He was a tohunga, a minister of religion. He told Margaret his spirit-guide was an owl. It sat on his shoulder. He told her to never be afraid of owls, that they would not harm her. On a Christmas holiday not long ago the Armstrong family were at their favorite North Island lake for a few days. On the way home there was heavy rain as they drove along a poor gravel road. It was almost completely dark, and at one spot they saw what looked like a small animal in the middle of the road. Finally as they came up to it they saw it was a big tawny owl.

The owl wouldn't move out of the way. Graeme walked up very close to it and the owl just stayed there. He even spoke to it. It moved away just a few steps so the car could get through. They drove on a bit, and just then the road he had planned to take slipped away behind them, washed out by the heavy rain.