A few months back my wife and I decided a trip to Stewart Island was in order. After the usual researching of maps and transport we decided to fly (fixed wing) into Smoky Beach on the northern end of the island, stay for 6 days at the Hunters Trust hut and then walk out the North West circuit back to Oban. This all sounded simple enough but we only had one small window of opportunity to get in (due tides) so come 8:00 pm on the 12th November it was all go. We had plans B and C sorted out just in case but as it turned out the stars aligned and we made it in as scheduled.
Landing on the beautiful beach was a huge relief but unfortunately it was the only time we would see any decent weather. From the next day onward we got rain, hail and persistent strong westerly winds. But as they say, there is nothing you can do about the weather. Just make the most of it.
On the first full day I had poked around in the bush in the rain and by late afternoon we had a brake in the weather so my wife and I headed off down the beach into the dunes for a walk and to glass the bush edge. We had no sooner found a good lookout among the dunes when I spotted a Whitetail doe crossing a small patch of sand about 200m distant. I settled in behind the rifle and watched her. She stopped in plain view and fed on a small Kamahi but was facing directly away from me. Her tail wagged as she filled her belly. Not a problem. She will turn and present a shot soon. Sure enough, after a minute or so she turned sideways and continued to feed. Unfortunately there was now a small bush directly in front of her shoulder. Not a problem. She will turn shortly. After feeding for another 30 seconds or so she took a couple of steps and disappeared. Bugger. My wife had noticed the threatening clouds approaching and (wisely) decided to head back to the hut. I stayed in the hope the doe would show herself again but ended up lying in the sand in the pissing rain until near dark without any luck.
Next day we woke to rain and strong winds. The only encounter was again on the edge of the dunes in the evening. This time a doe (probably the same one) drifted through the wind sculpted Manuka and appeared next to the same Kamahi. This time the animal only showed it's head as it plucked off some leaves. Then it disappeared. The ghosts were living up to there names.
Day three. Rain, hail and even more wind. That evening I went back to the same spot but changed tactics. It was blowing that hard through the dunes a shot even at 150m was going to be dodgy so I decided to get up into the bush edge and hope for an encounter at bayonet range if the deer stuck to it's routine. At least I wouldn't be getting sand blasted while I waited. Dark fell and no sign of deer. They were obviously smarter than me and stayed tucked up in a sheltered spot somewhere.
I had to laugh at myself on the way back to the hut. It was getting dark at around 10pm and I hadn't been using my head torch on other nights but thought I would get it out that night to make it a bit easier to travel the last short distance through the bush to the hut. That's funny...it won't go?
No battery! Just as well I hadn't been a lot farther away.
Day 4 and guess what. Squally showers and more wind. We went for a walk west over to Long Harry hut for a look and later in the afternoon went for another walk up Smoky beach. With rain threatening again my wife decided to head for the hut while I ducked off into the bush for a quick stalk. I made my way inland through a couple of small gullies and came across what looked like a good place to sit and watch for a while. After 15 minutes and no action I sidled the edge of the fairly open gully before sneaking over the top to look into the next. I had been standing there for a minute or so when I saw a flash of white out of the corner of my eye. It was not like the flicker of a bird. It was a much slower more gentle movement. There was no sound but through the thick undergrowth on my side of the gut I could see something slowly moving down the other side. I lifted my rifle and tracked it with my scope trying to get a better view of what it was. Gradually it revealed more of itself as it came parallel to me and moved past where I was standing on the other side of the gut. It stopped, lifted it's head and gazed down the gut. That was all the time I needed to release the safety and squeeze off a shot.
My first Whitetail down. A buck and I was rapt.
I realised because of the time of year I was not going to be bringing home antlers or a decent skin but I removed the tail and all the meat we could eat and headed back to the hut very satisfied. Over the 4 days of hunting I was a bit disappointed to have only seen three deer but was pleased that none of those three had known I was there.
The following days were spent exploring and eating too much. We had flown in fresh fruit and veges so our last meal at Smoky on the 7th night consisted of Venison, fried eggs, onions and tomatoes, a salad and cheese cake for desert.
The trip home was planned as part of the adventure. The walk out consisted of staying at 2 DOC huts on the way. At the first I watched a deer feeding on the lawn outside the hut when I got up in the night to empty my bladder and at the second my fake Mercator turned from boning knife to paua knife as I managed to pry a decent one off the rocks for dinner without getting my feet wet.
The wind had really got up by that stage. It was blowing 70 kts out in the strait. We shared the hut with a young Chinese girl (our first company for the trip) and late in the evening she came into the hut excitedly saying she had seen a cat. She didn't seem to mind when I picked up the rifle and went outside to say goodnight to it.
After 22 hours of walking with heavy packs from Smoky we reached the road end and thanks to @223nut got a lift into town. That was much appreciated. Thanks mate We stayed in Oban the next day for a bit of R&R (mostly recovery) The fishing rod I had carried the whole trip but hadn't used because of the wind finally got an outing off the wharf at Oban where I caught an octopus.
To sum up the trip. Wind, rain and mud. But I would do it again in an instant.
Smoky Beach
PS. The Rakiura Hunters Trust must be commended for the fantastic job they do administering the 16 odd hunters huts on the island. Bloody brilliant. We also got great service from Stewart Island Flights, getting us there and storing our gear until we came out.
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