This expedition was a continuation of our previous two expeditions along the fjords of Fiordland picking up the trail at George Sound and finishing at Milford Sound. We started 4 years ago at Lake Hauroko and by inflatable boats and by climbing often over unknown terrain we covered something like 600 kilometres of travel through this magnificent World Heritage Park. Without the help of my climbing/paddling companion Simon Marwick it would not have been possible.
Dawn on 30th of January 2010 was a grim affair. It was a pre-dawn start to a drizzly day as they drove away from Vicki’s place in Te Anau to Boat Harbour at Te Anau Downs. Sue came along to see them off and drive Simon’s car back to Te Anau.
They sorted out the kayaks and stowed all their gear in their hatches and then pulled off for the open crossing to the start of the Middle Fiord. The sky lightened and the rain stopped. There was no wind and only a light chop on the water from the previous night wind. Further up the Middle Fiord they encountered a head wind that built rapidly and slowed progress. At the half way point opposite Arran Island there was a headland where they stopped for a break and a bite to eat. Then it was into the breeze and a slog all the way up the NW arm to the beach.
Here they sorted out their gear packing huge packs with their packrafts and other equipment. They then pulled their sea kayaks into the forest and set off on the track over to Lake Hankinson. This was only a few minutes walk and they were pleased to see that an easterly wind now blew up the lake. The rafts were blown up and launched with their packs tied across the bow and off they went. The wind caught the rafts and blew them up the 5 kilometre long lake in a wild ride in just over an hour. 
They landed at the Hankinson Hut where they stopped for a break. As it was still early they decided to carry on to Lake Thompson Hut. The walk up river to Lake Thompson was short and then they were scrambling down huge rocks to the water’s edge. It was unpleasant for them as we got their rafts ready amid a cloud of biting sandflies. Simon was off first and Stanley mistimed his launch and fell into the lake. He was not too concerned though as at least it gave him some relief from the biting insects. At the other end of Thompson are extensive mud flats and again it was a trial for the lads packing up the rafts amid a swarm of sandflies.
A short walk took them up the valley to the wonderfully situated lake Thompson Hut on a rocky promontory above the forest where they met George and Kevin doing a vegetation survey. A pleasant evening was spent there and a restful night for all.
Sunday dawned fine and after breakfast Stan set off first. His pack was heavy which impaired his balance. Just below the hut while moving around a tree on a steep slope he lost balance and slammed into a tree impacting his chest and fracturing a rib. For the rest of the trip he suffered a sore chest especially after a lot of strenuous climbing. It was a bad day for Stan as he also forgot to get his spare shirt which was hanging up in the hut to dry and he only remembered it when too far up the track to bother going back to retrieve it. Simon caught up with him at Deadwood Lagoon. This is a swampy dismal place with giant bog holes into which Stan fell in up to his thigh in mud. They stopped for lunch at Henry Saddle that has impressive views towards George Sound and the surrounding mountains.
It was another 5 hours to George Sound Hut, a welcome sight. Amazingly there were few sandflies about. In the evening a yacht came in and anchored near Lake Alice Falls.
They found their old food cache in a tree near the hut, the remnants from the G2 expedition. Most of it was still edible bar the cheese. They had their obligatory swim in the sound, a pattern to be followed on their journey to the north.
Monday was another fine day and they made a late start and got away by 9.00AM. They blew up the packrafts and set off across the kilometre or so of open water to the foot of Alice Falls. Once there they set off up slabs on the true left of the falls to the outlet of Lake Alice about 200’ above. Then they launched the packrafts and paddled up the still waters into the main lake. 
All around were still forest-covered mountains sparkling in the sun under an azure sky. Out on the lake was a pair of black swans.
They paddled up the 2.5 kilometre lake to the Edith River at the top and then up the river to a sandy beach where they landed.
Here they packed up the packrafts and set off up the true left bank at first on gravel beaches
and then into the bush. A short distance up was an old campsite. Deer trails aided their progress. Further up the valley were some steep waterfalls that they had to climb up quite a way to circumvent. They stopped on some slabs for lunch and had a swim in a deep pool there. In the afternoon they set off up a spur on the true right to circumvent a cliff and then decided that was the wrong route and backtracked back to river level and entered an area of giant boulders. Shortly after that they found the magnificent Edith Rock Bivi.
It has taken them 8 hours from the lake.
The rock bivi was spacious and had a fireplace so they lit a fire and cooked up a welcome dinner. As the sun waned to the west it created sunbeams among the trees and filtered into the bivi rock. This was accentuated by smoke from the fire. As there were good sleeping platforms they spread out their sleeping bags and slept under the stars. That night an earthquake that shook the valley awakening them!
Next morning they faced a difficult ascent up a boulder-chocked riverbed that eventually led them to a wide grassy area. Stan was feeling especially sore with his fractured rib now more than an inconvenience. There were open grassy flats but it was quite boggy and deep mud in places. There were some tarns and the area looked like it floods quite often. The valley curved around to the right and here they picked up a deer trail in fairly open forest. Then close to the creek they saw an adult wapiti and fawn. Simon snapped off a few frames before it took fright and scampered.
They could hear it barking for quite a while announcing their presence. The going was good and bad till they reached a level part of the valley floor. Here they went too far before starting to climb up steep slopes to the Edith Saddle. They climbed up horrible scrub to the right of the saddle and then had to drop off down steep slopes to the saddle.
There was a delightful tarn on the saddle and they had lunch there admiring the sunny valley stretching all the way back to Lake Alice.
Stan resorted to soaking his shirt in the tarn and wearing it to cool off. Then it was a grind up tussock slopes to the left of the ridge to the Edith/Pitt Saddle overlooking Oilskin Lake.
There was a glorious view all around. Simon went off and climbed peak 1358 while Stan descended to the lake and went for a swim. Simon arrived a bit later and then they set up camp beneath a huge rock. The grass was flattened there and food scraps in the tarn pointed to a recent party being in the area.
Stan decided on a rest day and Simon decided to set off up peak 1475 and 1480 and check out routes to Wild Natives River. Stan were concerned the route below Lake Beddows could be very difficult. He went for a stroll down to the Pitt River Rock Bivi but could find no sign of their food cache. Simon had a rewarding day of great views and checked out routes to the north. He was keen to head down to Lake Beddows as he felt the ridge walk to Tarnagan Point would be a huge effort. That evening they decided to pack up and head down to the Pitt River Rock Bivi. On our way Simon found the food cache just up from the bivi. They also fished an old beer can out of a tarn some slob had carelessly tossed in and noted some toilet paper strewn around on Oilskin Pass. A dead deer suggested some hunters had been in the area not long before their arrival. It was disappointing to see they left waste lying around in their wake. They set up camp at a huge overhanging rock that is the Pitt River Rock Bivi. A pleasant evening was spent there.
They stirred at 6.00 AM for a quick breakfast and were away at 7.00 AM. A short distance below they entered the bush and found an automated camera on a tree beside a deer trail. The boys could not resist having some goofy pics taken of themselves. The trail dropped down the true left and went down a creek bed and lower down came into more open forest with tall trees. Here they came across more wapiti. Then it was down some flats to the lake which was smaller then expected. There were lots of rata in bloom.
They soon had the rafts blown up and set off down the lake to the outlet that was blocked with enormous boulders and logs jams.
Simon did a recce and reported difficulties below. Back up the lake was a slip that offered an easier route to the tops so they paddled back to it and landed. Just as they were packing up a white Squirrel helicopter flew out of the gorge and moved around the lake and flew back the way it had come. Oddly it did not acknowledge their presence, as it must be a rare event to see anyone at Lake Beddows.
The climb upwards was hard with steep ground, small cliffs and a stifling hot day. Eventually they reached a level ridge at 650 metres where we turned to the right and moved along to the main part of the mountain that led them to open tops at 850 metres. Here they stopped for lunch.
There was a great view towards Bligh Sound. 
After lunch they set off down a spur/face that turned out not to be the best route as it fell away to the left towards the cataract draining Lake Beddows. Big cliffs forced them left and down so that Stanley was panicking about bad country he sensed below them. Eventually they decided to climb straight back up about 400 metres to the bushline at 900 metres. This effort did in Stanley as his chest was seizing up with pain. He called a halt at the bushline and put up the tent on a level bit of open tussock while Simon went off to climb a nearby peak.
Some keas paid them a visit and became a nuisance after a while. They ended up being chased them away with sticks and stones.
Next morning was misty as the alarm sounded at 6.00 AM. They packed up and headed off down a spur starting at 950 metres dropping towards Wild Natives River. There was a good deer trail on it and the route weaved around the spur as deer trails are won’t to do. Lower down the spur split and they moved away to the right avoiding steep slopes dropping towards the cataract. At one point Stan was attacked by a swarm of tiny bees and suffered lots of stings that felt like jets of fire on his legs. Eventually they came out onto a swampy clearing of sphagnum moss that they ran across and which wobbled like a waterbed! On the other side they shortly came to a lagoon bordered by a sandy beach. After some debate they set off down the bank to the junction of the Beddows River and Wild Natives Creek and blew up the packrafts and paddled across a big pool to the other side. Then they set off down the true left bank of Wild natives to Bligh sound about an hour away. The forest was lovely and open all the way to the sound that was glorious. They had a swim and lunch and then retraced their way to the Beddows river to retrieve their packs and then were able to paddle up the wide river for maybe 1.5 kilometres. Here they packed up and set off up the river bed to the junction of the Wild Natives and Bernard which they missed. When they climbed to 100 metres on the Wild Natives they realised their mistake and then crossed the river and cut across country to join the Bernard. Shortly after they found a good place on the banks of the Bernard to camp.
The camp was on a level clearing on a deer trail on the true left bank at 100 metres altitude.
They had a dip in the river and lit a fire so as to save fuel. The usual routine was for Simon to cook as he did not have a high opinion of Stanley’s culinary skills. Stanley would get the tent sorted out and usually wash some clothes and hang them up to dry and indeed they would dry quickly in the warm conditions. All around were loud of wekas calling each other. They are plentiful in all the valleys. A large black fellow visited our camp. The boys would usually head to bed about 8.00 PM and get up at 6.00 AM.
They had a fast start next day to beat the sandflies that were particularly bad. The deer trail that they were following took them away from the river till Stanley noticed they were heading into the wrong valley system. Then it was a slow plod back to the Bernard. They were heading for the second tributary from the north that we reached and followed up the true right bank in dense bush to a cliff barring the way ahead. Here they veered off to the left into more dense forest on deer trails and got lost. Back down and then up a spur on an excellent deer trail on the true right of the river took them swiftly to the 500-metre contour at the start of a hanging valley. The spur was well defined and maybe 50 or more metres above the creek bed on the true right. The start of the spur is up a face well away from the creek.
In the hanging valley Simon startled a wapiti. They stopped for lunch by a huge rock in the creek bed. After this they continued up the open creek bed that got steeper from the 600 metre contour. At about 650 metres they left the creek on a bearing of about 90’ following more deer trails at first. At 800 metres it got very steep like about vertical and they had to get out the rope for one awkward bit. Then it was a tussle with more scrub to the open tops. From here it was an easy sidle over to Robb Saddle where they set up camp.
There were lots of alpine flowers in bloom and the views of Lake Bernard and the mountain all around were superb. They had the usual bath in a tarn nearby and a welcome meal and restful night.
It rained during the night and next day they set off down Robb Creek under a grey sky. It was quite boggy and the bush scrubby and damp. The lower flats led to a deer trail on the true left of the creek that they followed down eventually loosing it and descended to a large slip dropping to the main creek which made for fast going. They reached the junction with the Dark River at lunchtime. They continued down through open forest on the true left to a small clearing in the bush that had obviously been used as a campsite in the past. There was some black plastic sheets stuck into a fork of a tree and had been there so long the tree had grown around it. They stopped for lunch there.
They were now in hollowed country, a land of giants and legends. The giant was WG Grave who in the summer of 1904-05 led his party in the first exploration of this most remote valley. Their account is recorded in a wonderful book called “Beyond the Southern lakes” by Grave’s daughter Anita Crozier. It was an epic journey in an age of exploration and ranks as one of the great exploratory trips in the New Zealand Alps. They ran out of provisions on the return from Sutherland Sound and ‘Starvation Creek’ is redolent of the trials they suffered.
After lunch they carried on to Swan Mere, a small lake about half a kilometre long. On the far shore was a line of Canada Geese, an invasive alien bird now well established in Fiordland. They blew up the rafts and paddled down the lake and into lower Dark. However they did not get far in the shallow river with its numerous rapids so they hauled out onto the swampy banks and headed over towards the mountains away from the swamps and spent hours struggling through wet scrubby bush to an open clearing. Beyond this was a huge area of morainic boulders covered in moss, rotten fallen trees and bush that took an age to cross. Grave recorded having a tough time on this section. By 7.00 PM they had reached Lake Grave and walked around from the river to camp on a lovely sandy beach among trees. Simon went for a swim and Stanley was content to just pitch camp and have a rest. Lake Grave is about 3 kilometres long and about 1 across and is surrounded by steep bush clad mountains. It took Grave 2 days to get around the sides and he described the route a harrowing time. It only took Simon and Stan an hour to paddle down.
Monday dawned fine and they slept in till 7.00AM. After breakfast they launched the packrafts onto a dead calm lake and paddled down. All around the forest rose to tussock and rocky heights.
They remembered the trials of Grave and his party struggling around the steep cliffs bordering the lake. At the outlet they landed and carried their rafts down to a lower much smaller lake where there were several black swans and a flock of Canada Geese. They paddled across this to a flat area where they hauled out. Then it was on a deer trail on the true right of the river which plunged down among huge boulders to Sutherland Sound. They followed it for maybe 15 minutes to the 80-metre contour till they were forced into the forest and followed a good deer trail down to the Sound.
Here they launched the rafts again and paddled down the river to the sound and then around to the Light River. 
There were lots of black swans, geese, shags on the river who flew off as they approached. It was sparklingly clear under a blue sky and the sound looked fantastic. Wide sandy beaches backed by gorgeous forest surrounded the Light River. They paddled up the river for maybe 100 metres and found the clearing on the true right bank with an old camp and tarpaulin shelter. Inside it was their next food cache. A light wind kept the sandflies off and it was rather idyllic.
In the afternoon Stan went for a swim in the sound and found himself a possie on a driftwood log where he wrote a poem on Sutherland Sound. The fiord is one of the most picturesque in Fiordland with blue sea, swaying podocarp forest and dramatic mountains up the Light and the V slot leading to Lake Grave that they had descended that morning. There was also a dramatic doubled headed mountain wreathed in cloud guarding the Light valley. 
Simon took his packraft down later for a paddle but by then there was a strong onshore wind that limited his excursion.
That night the wind dropped and the sandflies were out in swarms. It is hot and muggy so Simon left the fly screen open in the tent after dark when self-respecting sandies are supposed to sleep but alas they decided they needed to feast on the lads. Come 5 AM the boys were glad to get going and were packed and off before first light. There was good going on beaches along the lower Light at first and later they plunged into the bush. There were more deer trails and they made good time up to the East Branch of the Light. This starts at a waterfall and climbs steadily up to 300 metres to a low scrubby, swampy saddle that connects to Lake Dale. High cliffs on the east and low hilly forest on the south and west surrounded the lake. To the north was a small flat area running back to a steep ridge climbing into the sky. High up this ridge there appeared to be some steep steps no doubt cliffs and vertical bluffs.
They blew up the rafts and paddled across to land on a small clearing. Then it was into swampy forest where they stumbled around in for quite a while till they reached a stream on the east that took them upwards to a steep slope leading to the start of the ridge seen from below. On the crest of it was the expected deer trail up which they gained altitude quickly. Half way up they stopped for lunch at a clearing with good views across the valley to the east to a large fresh slip. There was lot so of red rata trees in flower. 
It was overcast and cloud on the tops. Then it was up and up to a band of cliffs at 900 metres where they got separated, Simon heading off to the right and Stanley to the left. Neither route proved easy as the leatherwood was dense and impeded progress by catching on the heavy packs and threatening to throw them off the mountain.
Eventually they made the bushline that was just below the cloud level. They climbed up about 100 metres and camped beside a dried up tarn. 
That night it rained and nearly flooded their camp. They slept well especially Stan who was dog tired! It was a late start at 10.00AM. There was low cloud in the valleys and drifting over the summits around. They set off and climbed to 1400 metres to the ridge line and then it was along to the north west to Staircase Saddle and from here down to small lake at the head of Staircase Creek. Everything was wet and slippery so it was a slow descent. Below the lake the best route was along the creek bed wading pools and boulder hopping slippery rocks. At a lower tier in the valley they reached a flat with a small lake but it was too boggy to camp there. Then it was down the riverbed to camp not far above the Sutherland Falls junction at the 435 metre contour.
They arose early and soon were at the Sutherland Falls Creek and then onto the well graded track to Quintin Huts which they reached at 8.00 AM just as some hikers were about to leave. 
It was a pleasant walk down valley to Lake Ada that they decided to packraft. The lake was full of deadheads (submerged logs) so they were careful not to spike the rafts on these. Near the end the wind came at them blowing up from Milford Sound so it was a big pull for them to the end of the lake. Then it was a short walk to Sandfly Point. When they arrived there was a boatload of tourists there who completely ignored them even as they were setting off in their tiny packrafts! A short paddle to Fisherman’s Wharf and they were unloading their rafts and finishing an epic journey that started 4 years ago on the shores of Lake Hauroko.
An account of the G3 expedition of Simon Marwick and Stanley Mulvany 30/1/2010-11/2/2010 from George Sound to Milford Sound covering a distance of about 115 kilometres. This is part 3 of a trilogy of expeditions that started 4 years ago at Lake Hauroko traversing all the western fiords
Acknowledgments: To Lloyd Matheson and Richard Hayes for assistance over the years in placing food caches in Fiordland to support us. To Sue Lake for help in organising our trips and assistance in driving us to put-ins in various places. To the DOC personnel at Te Anau for monitoring our radio transmissions and updates of weather forecast and passing on messages. To other DOC personnel for assistance in various ways all of which made it possible for us to complete these journeys. Lastly I pay tribute to Simon who carried the heaviest load, scouted the routes and who was the perfect companion on these arduous expeditions.
Text by Stanley and photos by Simon and Stanley
Stanley Mulvany
Invercargill
