Gumotex 2 Expedition

The Gumotex 2 Expedition

A Traverse of Middle Fiordland

This is the continuation of a journey which started in the summer of 2005/06 across remote mountains and fjords of Southern New Zealand. On the Gumotex 1 expedition two Invercargill men set out in a small inflatable kayak and traversed a series of lakes across the southern part of Fiordland from Lake Hauroko to Preservation Sound in the extreme southwest corner and then made their way northwards to Doubtful Sound. The next journey took them to the middle fjords in a great arc around the lofty peak of Mt Irene, Guardian of Middle Fiordland.

The two men were Simon Marwick, a fisherman from Stewart Island and Stan Mulvany, an adventurer/doctor from Invercargill. They decided to take two Alaskan packrafts instead of the heavier Gumotex kayak used previously. Inspection of the map of Fiordland shows the Murchison Mountains occupying a great wedge between the South and Middle Fiords of Lake Te Anau and Mount Irene sitting on its western boundary. To the west are five narrow fjords, Bradshaw, Nancy, Charles, Caswell and George Sounds. Their plan was to strike westwards along the southern axis to Bradshaw Sound and then move northwards, climbing across the mountain ranges between each of the sounds and to encircle Mt Irene from the east and finish by crossing the Murchison Mountains back to the South Fiord of Lake Te Anau. Part of their route was in a restricted area and they were granted a special permit by the Department of Conservation to enter the Murchisons.

The morning was cool and clear as the two men arrived on the stony beach of Patience Bay at 6.45AM. Their kayaks were carried down the beach and loaded. They set off on a mirror calm lake heading in the direction of Dome Island at the mouth of the South Fiord.

The kayaks moved rapidly away and soon were seen to enter the South Fiord. It is about 30 kilometres to the head of the fiord and as they neared the top an easterly wind came away and they raised their sails which carried them effortlessly along. At the Gorge Burn they beached their kayaks and sorted out their packs. When all was ready they carried their kayaks into the bush and then set off up an indistinct trail to the falls.

The day was blisteringly hot and soon Stanley was in a lather of sweat and stripped off his shirt and followed slowly in Simon’s wake. The valley rises in a series of elevations each of which has a small lake. At the first level they stripped off and jumped into the river which was most invigorating. Then it was a slow plod on deer trails onto the next elevation. Nearing Lake Cecil there was a stirring in their packraft bags as the boats felt the excitement of their first paddle in Fiordland. There was a faint murmur of “Let me out! Let me out!”

Arriving at the lake they unfolded their packrafts and soon they were pumping them up as they stretched and took on shape. Then the four piece paddles were snapped together, the packs tied on the bow loops and the magic moment arrived as they set off paddling across the one kilometre long lake. This was a great time saver as it only took them a few minutes to paddle across what would be at least an hour in thick steep bush. Moirs Guide says it was 1.5 hours from Lake Cecil to Lake Boomerang but this was incorrect as the excellent deer trials made for a rapid passage. They arrived at a clearing caused by an old slip at the east end of Lake Boomerang and set up camp. Simon went off for a swim as Stan prepared dinner. Later they could hear several helicopters at the head of the valley probably on deer recovery and just on dark they zoomed overhead bound no doubt for Te Anau.

Next morning the boys set off early for Fowler Pass around the south side of Lake Boomerang following the rather vague direction in Moirs. They followed along deer trails that sidled along the base of a steep spur. After maybe 100 metres they headed straight up through very steep bush. Higher up this eased off and they reached a sort of plateau. Here they turned right and up to the crest of a ridge and followed this along to a waterfall on the right which they crossed and then a little higher reached open tussock.

From here there was a great view of the valley below and higher up a gentle valley rose to Fowler Pass at 1085 metres. There were pleasant flats and stands of beech forest. It was overcast and starting to drizzle and once on the pass it was cold and windy.

A long way below was Lake Tuaraki and a strong westerly wind was driving across it. The boys decided not to paddle across but to drop almost to lake level and then climb a bluff on the true left of the lake. Moirs describes a rock gut on the other side of this but it looked evil and slippery so our two adventurers cautiously descended the snowgrass bluff beside it and used their rope to lower their packs to the bottom. Once past this they descended to the forest of the Tuaraki and a little below this reached the margin of a swamp where they stopped for lunch in the trees.

A good deer trail took them down the valley and then dropped to the left crossing a tributary of the Tuaraki coming in from the south. They continued down to a large flat area covered in tall forest where the Torre stream joined the Tuaraki. There were many deer trails here and they followed down the valley till the Tuaraki started to drop steeply where they did a long difficult sidle at the 400 metre contour. This was mostly on a deer trail and butted up against high cliffs. Eventually they crossed a spur and found themselves high above the Camelot Valley. They sidled down valley for awhile before dropping straight down to the Camelot River where they found an open space on its bank to camp.

They had a system established by now. Stan would pitch camp and Simon would have a swim. Then a hot chocholate drink and dinner followed. Clothes would be hung out to dry and sometimes washed. Occasionally there was some repairing done. They tended to head off to bed early as most morning started at 6.00 AM.

Next day dawned clear and they set off at 7.30 AM. There was good travel on the numerous deer trails in the valley. They saw a deer running through the forest and the scenery was magnificent. Its a long way from the Tuaraki/Crozette junction to the navigable part of the river. They passed the Bevidere falls which were quite impressive and found no sign of Murrells hut site. On they walked for several hours till they reached a wide slow part of the river and here they decided to inflate the packafts.

They drifted down the final two kilometres of river to the estuary. There was a strong wind blowing down the valley. Landing they contemplated the white caps out on Gaer Arm. Then they set off in the small rafts closely following the shore at first and later striking further out into the sound. The wind at their backs helped a lot and they covered the 8 kilometres in about 2.5-3 hours of paddling. Landing at Rum Creek they set up camp a little up river. The sandflies were thick there necessitating headnets

Another fine day as the boys had breakfast and broke camp. The going was easy and they covered the three kilometres on the Rum to the junction with the Toddy river in two hours. Here the forest was quite open and they moved on a deer trail into a steep valley.

This deteriorated rapidly into a tangle of huge rocks and gullies covered in thick vines and scrub. After a while they broke out of this onto a slip where they had a break. Then it was into a large flat area covered in forest and on good deer trails till the valley curved around to the left and started to climb towards the Toddy Saddle. Here they went astray and climbed a steep bluff on the left only to descend and move too far right. This eventually took them out onto a small clearing and the easiest way seemed to be to continue upwards. Needless to say it got worse as they struck a band of leatherwood where the only option was to bash straight upwards. At 4.30 PM they mercifully reached the saddle above its high point and onto a clearing. This was ideal for their camp and soon Stan had the tent up and a brew on. There was mossy ground nearby and Simon made a soak here to collect water. There were some pretty mountain gentians in flower. Across the valley rose the Trios Peaks and Mt Namu.

In the morning Simon set off to climb the peaks and Stan decided to have a rest day. It was lovely and warm so he had a bath and washed his clothes. It was too hot to sleep even with the sleeping bags over the tent. He used the VHF to call up DOC at Te Anau for a forecast. At 4.30 PM Simon returned successful after a great day on the tops and suggested they descend to Heel Cove, site of their first food cache. They found good deer trails and descended the 700 metres in three hours. Their food cache was near an old hunters camp where they stayed. They cooked up a big meal and then retired.

It was fine next morning as the boys were up early and got breakfast. Stan had sorted out the food cache. He left a bucket of food that was surplus and to Simon’s chagrin a pottle of honey was left which he did not discover till later. The sandflies hastened their departure and it was a pleasant paddle to Toe Cove. Here they landed on tidal flats and quickly packed up their packrafts and set off into the forest.

Again deer trails provided the easiest going but these tended not to go in the right direction so they were not really sure if it would lead them to the saddle marked at 328 metres on the map. The deer trail wandered about a bit and then took off straight uphill to the 400 metre contour to the southeast of the saddle. This was alright as it was a good route and the trail was well trodden. Crossing the ridge it was decided to head straight down to the Windward River which they struck southeast of the hill marked 110 metres near its mouth. They wandered around it to find a most impressive gorge with the river thundering below into Charles Sound. The entrance was cliff bound so they sidled around for awhile till they found easier access to the sound. Here they launched the packrafts and paddled out to a small island. As there was no fresh water on the island they decided to carry on for another kilometre to a beach on the true right of the fjord against a strong wind. There were extensive tidal flats and they carried the rafts across these. The far shore was poor for camping but they managed to clear an area and set up camp. They got the marine forecast on their VHF radio and it promised more wind.

The alarm went off at 5.00 AM but the wind was strong so they slept in. Later it seemed to ease off so they decided to give it a go. They left at 9.30 AM and at first the winds were light and they made steady progress. However once past Fanny Island the wind gusts grew stronger and progress was at a snails pace for Stan who found it difficult to keep pace with Simon. Every headland was a battle as the wind drove the packrafts back. The waves grew larger but the rafts rode over the swells easily. Then they could see the open sea on a grey morning with waves driven in by the northerly wind. Ahead was Eleanor Island and Friendship Point and here they really battled the seas to get around into Emelius Arm. Once around though the wind dropped and they stopped for lunch on some rocks under a cliff. It was the usual Tortilla wraps with peanut butter, cheese and dried fruit. Although it looked disgusting they scoffed them down. Then they carried on up the sound with the wind on their backs and made steady progress to the head of Emelius Arm. There it was quite shallow and with the tide ebbing it was a hard push up the Irene River for about 1.5 kilometres to a pleasant campsite in the tall forest under the Marjorie Ridge. Simon headed off for a swim as Stan set up camp in the rain.

The rain stopped overnight and they had a late start at 9.30 AM. Stan had a restless night and dreamt of the Taliban though why was a mystery to him! They started up the ridge behind camp and found easy progress at first up a gently ridge climbing towards Marjorie Creek. This climbed up to 300 metres where the going became more difficult in some gullies but eventually they reached Marjorie creek at about 340 metres. There was a steep descent into it and a straightforward climb on big boulders up to the hanging valley above. It was grey and drizzling. After 100 metres they entered a level boggy valley. In one area there was a clearing with stumps of saw off trees evident and likely to have been a helicopter clearing for deer recovery years ago. They picked up a side creek and found deer trails that took them up to Shirley Saddle at 780 metres at 3.30 PM. It rained all day and the lads were cold and wet. The lowest point of the saddle did not look promising for camping so they turned left up a steep gully onto an open plateau still in the bush with several good campsites.

 Simon called up Sue at DOC and had her patch him through to his mum who was having a birthday. Lake Shirley was 150 metres below them. They had a pleasant camp on the ridge.


The route on Google Earth and on their maps appeared to be to the left of the saddle so they set off on a deer trail in that direction. After a while they decided to head straight down and although steep proved straightforward. They got down to a beach at the head of the lake and blew up their rafts. It was a pleasant paddle down the 2 kilometre long lake. There were stunning reflections of the forest on the hillsides in the dark waters.

At the end of the lake which they renamed Lago Alpacka in tribute to their packraft maker they headed off to the left and had lunch on some granite domes at the 630 metres level. From here there was a fantastic view of the whole length of Caswell Sound from the ocean to the head. They set off along the line of the domes and at the end of them dropped straight down to Caswell Sound. The forest was very steep in places and in one spot they stumbled on a nest of bees which attacked them speeding up their descent. They came out on a rocky stream bed on the sound just as the rain came on. Packrafts were speedily launched and a slow paddle was made in pouring rain to the head of the sound.

The current was strong in the river at the head and they paddled up this to the first rapid to land near the Caswell Sound hut. This venerable historic hut was built in 1949 by Colonel J K Howard Wapiti Expedition. In the summer of 2007 Ken Bradley and Grant Tremain restored the hut as it was in danger of collapse. It is a wonderful old place and a welcome refuge in the pouring rain. They got a fire going and welcome hot drink and then it was a bath in the river. The rain bucketed down that evening.

They awoke to a grey day but at least the rain had stopped. At lunchtime they decided to set off up the river to Lake Marchant. There was no wind and the lake was huge and hemmed in by massive cliffs to the south. They blew up the rafts as a weka paid them a visit. Trout was jumping out in the lake which was very still. They set off up the Stillwater which ran slow and deep beneath high banks. They were able to paddle the best part of 3 kilometres up river before the current stopped them. They it was a tramp up the true left of the river towards the Knob. It took an age to reach this and navigation was difficult. They missed it initially and then managed to get a GPS reading and backtracked several hundred metres to the rise to the pass on the south of the knob. Light was fading as they slowly made their way through the swamp in the saddle. At the far end they reached a steep drop off which they avoided by sidling along and then an easy descent took them to an open grassy though very wet area. On the far side they made camp in the forest on the banks of the Stillwater.

The next day dawned fine and the lads were moving by 8.00 AM. They made slow progress up valley through boggy flats and dense bush. Below Ethne Saddle they reached a gorge and expected to find a walkwire so continued up it on a deer trail that climbed quite high and then dropped back to river level past the gorge. Again no sign of a crossing so they retraced their step back to the start of the gorge. Here Simon blew up his raft and he ferried the gear across and then Stan. On the far side they had lunch and then set off up a swampy Ethne valley. Better going was found on the right on a deer trail which they followed all the way to the saddle at 270 metres. Then it was a straightforward descent to the South West Arm of George Sound which they reached later in the afternoon. There was a nice beach there and it was hot so the lads stripped off and went for a swim in the warm water. They picked up their food cache including a previous one put in one and a half years ago which was quite edible. They loading all the buckets into the packrafts and started the six kilometre paddle to George Sound hut. The sandflies were a pest and attacked them even as they paddled. There was a headwind to the junction with the Southeast arm and it took a few hours to get there.

They decided to have a rest day at George Sound hut the following day. It dawned overcast and windy. Simon paddled over to Alice Falls and carried his raft up to Lake Alice and paddled to its head. Stanley spent the day resting, reading and of course eating there being no shortage of food. Surprisingly their old food cache was fine even the pumpernickel which over a year old. Later in the day Simon returned and they sorted out excess food and left a food cache nearby for the following year. It rained heavily that night and was very windy.

They left at 9.00 AM next day for Henry Saddle. It was hot and overcast and thankfully the rain had stopped. Stan walked in just his shorts and made Lake Katherine in one and a half hours. Simon arrived shortly afterwards. It was a short walk around the lake and then a long grind up to Henry Saddle at 830 metres. It was 2.30 PM before Stan arrived to meet Simon who had arrived earlier. Simon called up DOC at Te Anau for a forecast and it predicted a southerly for several days which proved correct. They had lunch on the saddle and then it was a descent to Deadwood Lagoon. Here there were some awesome mudholes and the track was very wet. They carried on down the valley arriving at Lake Thompson Hut at 7.30 PM. This was most welcome as the boys were a bit sick of the track by then not to mention hungry and dying for their hot chocholate drinks.

Next day they continued down the valley. At lake Thompson Simon elected to paddle down in his packraft while Stanley walked around. Below the lake is an awesome walkwire. They arrived at Lake Hankinson Hut and there launched their packrafts into the river to paddle down to the lake. There a very rough lake stirred up by the southerly wind greeted them. It was difficult to make progress at first as the waves literally threw them backwards. The only hope was to claw their way around the shoreline which they managed. There was one dicey part which involved crossing the narrows just over half way down and they were nearly across when the wind increased along with williwaws creating quite a maelstrom. The rest was easy and they landed at the boat ramp. Then it was an easy carry over to Lake Te Anau. Here there was a big wind blowing up the lake. They were going to camp but late evening it eased off so they set off in the rafts. It was hard work in the waves and wind but they made slow but steady progress. The plan was to get around into the South West Arm but night caught them short of the corner so they turned around and surfed back to a beach not far from the junction. This was a good spot so they camped there.

Next morning it was still very windy as Simon set off first. Stanley found just getting off the beach a battle as the waves threw the raft back onto the beach several times. He had to empty the raft which got swamped and then in a lull dashed out and jumped in and paddled like hell. Although the junction was not far it was a huge struggle just getting there as the gusts blew him backwards. Then he noticed his raft seemed to be loosing air as the pack strapped on the front deck was slowly sinking into the waves. It was not looking too good for some time till he was able to claw around the corner and call over Simon who was able to blow up the leaking valve which had worked loose. After this it was a breeze literally as the wind was on their backs and they moved along steadily down the arm. About half way down they were surprised to meet a lone sea kayaker and exchanged some pleasantries with him. They reached the Junction Burn Hut in a few hours after leaving and changed here. Then it was up the Woodrow Burn on a good track. There were a few gorges to negotiate but it was pretty easy after their previous route. At 6.30 PM they stopped at a flat just past a tricky gorge at 580 metres and had a pleasant camp and meal.

It was cool that night and clear next day as they set of up the valley. There were tantalising glimpses of snow covered mountains at the head of the valley. There were extensive clearing and excellent going. Eventually they reached a small lake and a bit further on the disked route ended. Up ahead was a gorge and Simon found a good deer trail up the true left of this. Further on were some lovely clearings and then they were above the bushline and stopping for lunch near the stream.


They traversed around a shoulder of Mt Irene at 1000 metres and sidled across to a small tarn just northeast of Robin Saddle were they camped. As it was early afternoon Simon set off on a reconnaissance of Mt Irene and Stanley elected to have a rest and wash instead. Later that evening Simon returned having climbed to the summit. That night is was cool and clear.

Next morning the lads were up at 5.00 AM in the dark getting breakfast and packing up camp. There had been a light frost during the night. They left most of their gear and for the first time on the trip could move along with feather light packs. They climbed up a ridge straight above their camp which took them across a sort of plateau with several small tarns and then over another ridge to a larger tarn below the main bulk of Mt Irene. There was a massive cliff here with amazing stratification. The dawn had arrived with a lovely alpenglow. Down below them the valley was shrouded in cloud and an easterly wind blew clouds over the passes to the west where the ephemeral strands dissolved into thin air. On they pressed to sidle around the cliffs to the south of Mr Irene where a break let them scramble upwards onto talus slopes to the summit. Here there was a superlative view all around them. In a huge 200 kilometre circle was their route over the past two weeks laid out below them. It felt like a homecoming to a sacred mountain lording it over the lesser peaks of Middle Fiordland. Our two adventurers felt very privileged to be there. On top was a VHF repeater and a small shed with lots of batteries and electronic gear. A freezing wind blew across the summit as they sheltered in the lee of this ‘dogbox’ to have some lunch. Then it was a round of photos before descending back to camp. Here they packed up and set off down the bluffs into the Esk valley and on to lake Duncan and down to Te Au Hut.













Next day the lads started early and sped across the saddle to the Mckenzie Burn and on down to the McKenzie Hut where they had lunch. From here it was a short walk to the lake where they paddled across to the mouth of the Gorge Burn. Their kayaks were in the bush as they had left them 18 days previous. These were hastily loaded as the sandflies were bad. An easterly wind blew up the lake as they set off but this later eased off. Several hours later they were crossing Lake Te Anau where they spotted the welcome sight of Sue waiting on the shore. Simon did two victory rolls in the lake just before they landed for the last time.

An account of the first traverse of a new route through Middle Fiordland circumambulating Mt Irene by Simon Marwick and Stan Mulvany 2-18 February 2008

Acknowledgments: To Sue Lake for looking after us before and after our trip and for keeping in radio contact. Thanks to Lloyd Matheson and the staff of Southern lake Helicopters for looking after our food caches and their concern and interest. A big thanks to the DOC staff at Te Anau including Phil Tisch, Beth Masser, Ken Bradley and the staff on the radios who do such a wonderful job. I acknowledge Simon Marwick who is such a stalwart companion on these trips, who carries the heaviest load without complaint and who often scouts out the route and is so patient when I am struggling to keep up. Lastly but not the least my long suffering wife Belinda who never complains when I dream up these mad expeditions.
Photographs were taken by Simon and myself.

Stanley Mulvany
Invercargill