back from the farm!

Where to start?!? I'm not sure I can fully describe my wwoofing experience at Port Ligar in writing! I started my journey to this remote tip of the Marlborough Sounds by ferry from Wellington, then van from Picton to Havelock (with Nick & Val, the mail carriers) over curvy Queen Charlotte Dr, then took the Pelorus Sound mail boat from Havelock to Port Ligar. Here's a map to help you out - Port Ligar is the northernmost stop on the Friday run (black):

We made the trip in a mere 3.5 hours (some mail deliveries were skipped due to the second week of easter holidays and folks on vacation). I met Alex on the boat, a French guy who had just cycled the south island for 2+ months, and my soon-to-be bunk mate at Port Ligar. We enjoyed the trip and became fast friends -- but how could you not, when you're delivering mail to pigs (yes, no humans at one house), dolphin-spotting, and anxiously awaiting the drop-off at your remote farm where the next opportunity for transport is a week away on the next mail boat run? Here are the well-loved pigs who came to collect the mail (and get a treat) at one stop:

We arrived at Waterfall Bay, rather than Port Ligar, because the Shands are busy rebuilding their wharf. So Alex and I hopped off the mail boat with only a minute's notice to gather our things, watched another wwoofer jump on, the mail bags were heaved out, and the boat was gone! Anson, the eldest brother of the 10 Shand children offered transport by dingy or road and we chose dingy (which turned out to be the best option -- definitely the quickest). Photo above = Alex (left) and Anson (right), motoring to Port Ligar. (farm house, below)

This gives you a pretty good impression of the farm -- above is clay point, on the other side of the "hill" from the house and port (Alex and I hiked it on our day off). Terrain was everything from this treeless, vertical, grazing land to lush bush (still vertical), waterfalls, and regenerating native forest. You can check out my photo album for pics of nautical sheep, nautical cows, nautical turkeys, nautical llamas (nevermind naturally nautical blue penguins and albatross) -- you name it! + a little more narrative, since I know this will get long!

The Shand's big cash crop is mussels (above), in addition to their nautical sheep & cows - and there's a bit of possum hunting too, as it's a very destructive invasive species and the fur brings a good price. One night we were planning a possum hunt (yes, a bunch of us speeding in the back of a pick-up with a big spot light, shooting at possums in the dark -- no, I did not shoot the furry menace), and before the 9:30 scheduled departure, we heard Cat call up "Heather -- come down quick -- possum!" Well, having just settled into a beer, welcoming the new french couple who'd just arrived, I wasn't too eager to rush off our comfy porch, but I grabbed the frenchies and we scooted down to Cat's hut. 

Cat, 27 (#3 of 10), who built her own cabin (very cool, reused materials, etc) is out on her back deck by the fire bath with a gun pointed up to the tree. Before we know it, she's firing and a possum falls right at our feet on the deck. (These are the moments I really needed video.) Alex and I desperately try to contain uncontrollable laughter -- this is, after all, life as usual. Seriously, we'd meet in our hut each night and recount our day's adventures and honestly couldn't believe we hadn't outdone the other, our stories were so incredible. We joked about our novel we had to write -- a chapter a night would be easy.

So, after several wwoofing tasks like righting a fallen telephone pole, building a deck (photo above), transplanting gardens, jumping knee-deep in manure pits under sheep pens, and chopping mega crates of veggies, we were informed Tuesday morning that there would be a 2-day hunting-fishing trip to d'Urville Island! The family loves this camping trip -- we take the mussel boat over the top of the sounds and around the far side of d'Urville Island, a place most people never see.

But this is no ordinary camping trip. Of course, by this time, I'm not silly enough to think it's about campfires and chatting around a boiling kettle in the morning. No way. We fish on the way, set a net, drop off a dingy of hunters to trek 10K across the mountains to meet us at our campsite and just get into the bay ourselves (by boat) before dark -- so we can haul the dingy up a very long beach at low tide, set up a campsite, eat, and be in bed by 9:30. This is, of course, so we can get up at 5am to send off the next round of hunters (without eating). I was on the boat going in and on the hunt going back. Our group of 8 split into 4 groups of 2 and silently stalked our deer just after sunrise. As fate would have it, Leeann and I were the "lucky" pair and took not one, not two, but three deer (one, a 6-pt stag). We were alone and a ways from the beach pick up point, so I'll leave all the gutting and dragging details to your imagination. We had to cross a swamp (below) to retrieve the stag, so all this was done with wet pants up to the hip, mind you. But did I mention the glorious sunshine?

Had great fun on the way back, drove the boat for a couple hours, spotted more dolphins, made up songs with the 7 and 10 yr-old and enjoyed fantastic views of the sounds. The next day, back at the farm, Cat and Leeann decide they're sailing "home" (to Mana Harbour, where they live in their 28-ft sail boat) Friday and Saturday. They invite me along, since I also live there (Camborne is right next to Mana, all part of Porirua city), so I decide to cross Cook Strait with them (officially the 2nd most dangerous strait in the world I learn AFTER).

We sailed to Port Gore (top of Marlborough Sounds) the first day and lashed ourselves to a mussel farm for the night -- strong anchors on those buoys (see photo above). Of course, before we were snuggly fitted, I nearly went overboard pulling up the anchor (no big reel, just by hand), and Cat was off the boat, barefoot, standing on buoys, tying us on in wind and waves . . . in the dark. Love my headlamp. Winds got pretty bad that night, but calm by morning for our crossing.

We fished in the morning off Cape Jackson (left) and then crossed to Mana (below), where a couple guys who also live on boats in the harbor greeted us, sailing out to meet us and inviting us to dinner. I returned to Wendy's later that evening (my house-sitting gig), and here I sit, at the comfort of a computer, not really sure that the last week and a half actually happened.

That's the SHORT version, but you can get more from photo captions in my album (see right bar - Port Ligar) - ENJOY!