The Gumotex 5 Expedition_ Poseidon Creek to Transit Valley and Anita Bay

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The inspiration for this trip came from an article written by Danilo Hegg on his trip up Mackay Creek to the Transit Valley in January 2014. Their route was different both at the start and at the end and our trip ended on a happier note, as Danilo was helied out from Anita Bay with a fractured arm. There were some logistical issues with our trip as I was not keen on packrafting all the way back from Anita Bay to Milford. Belinda came to our rescue and offered to kayak out to Anita Bay and tow out our inflatable Gumotex kayak.

Simon Marwick has been on all our previous ‘Gumotex Expeditions’ and was keen to come which was great. We had planned to go around 22 January but delayed starting till the forecast improved. We finally got under way on Tuesday 26^th and spent the night at Sue’s place in Te Anau. Leaving early next day we drove to Fisherman’s Wharf in Milford Sound where we launched our packrafts for the paddle over to Sandfly Point. I found this quite difficult as the wind and the river current was against me.

The walk up to the mouth of Poseidon Creek was pleasant enough on the well-made Milford Track. Once there we stopped for lunch and then set off up Poseidon Creek. This is the one, just valley north of Mackay Creek that Danilo and his party took. Once you leave the track you are in primeval forest. Further along we struck a marked track that serviced stoat traps for some way along the true right of Poseidon Creek. Unfortunately this did not go very far, so it was back into bush bashing. Not only was it thick bush but there were tall ferns on the forest floor so one could not judge ones footing. Here we suffered several ‘PIEs’ (poked in the eye) and Simon had a ‘PIN’ (poked in the neck, enough to draw blood). Needless to say it was not a ball of fun! This sort of country numbs the mind, a sort of protective reflex to make progress possible. Hours later we arrived at a small lake surrounded by very wet marshland. We packrafted across and tried several landings only to find swamp grass covered in a foot of water.

Then we paddled up the incoming creek and on a high bank managed to trample down tall swamp grass to find a place for the tent. It was not ideal but that was the only possibility. We were both soaked from the sodden bush. To add to our misery, a weka appeared and persisted in annoying us by trying to sneak off with gear. I was glad to crash after dinner.

Just after daybreak on day two I crawled out of the tent. The sky was overcast and threatened rain. After breakfast we set off through chest high ferns and semi-open flats towards the river. There we found small beaches along the river that made for fast travel. Alas this did not last too long and we were forced back into subalpine scrub and dense ferns as the river cascaded down from above. In the distance we could see the waterfalls on the face below the upper valley but it was a real struggle to reach them. The rain started and we were soaked again. More mind numbing travel. We worked our way up the true left of the river and at the top found a pool, then crossed the river and ground our way up open slopes with slabs and the odd bit of scrub. At the top we entered the upper valley and what a delight. We camped beside a tongue of beech forest. It had stopped raining, the sun came out and life was beautiful.

After lunch, Simon set off to check out the route described in Moir’s guide on the headwall on the true right. At the base were slabs angling up to the right and above them some tussock slopes and way left another tongue of beech forest. I was content to dry out gear and have a bath in a nearby creek and eat! Scanning the face it appeared there might be a good route just to the right of the high tongue of beech forest by climbing straight up some vertical buttresses to a line of weakness across the face. I was wrong on that account, as we shortly were to learn.

We left after daybreak on Friday and climbed the slabs Simon had reconnoitred the previous day. On top we decided to climb straight up and this was quite exposed and tricky with our heavy packs. Above we reached some tussock basins and came up to the vertical bluffs I’d seen from our camp the previous day. There appeared to be 2 possibilities so we roped up and I set off up the right hand one. After about 40 feet and no possibility of a runner I began to have second thoughts. There was no possibility of climbing up these with our packs even with a top rope so I carefully backed down. Next we investigated the left hand crack but this too looked very difficult.

Thing were not looking promising at all as we descended down to the left to check out another ledge system. It was sunny and warm so we sat down to scan the face over to our left. There was a shrill whistle and suddenly a chamois dashed down the near vertical cliffs in front of us maybe 200 meters away. What a display of agility and grace as this magnificent animal cruised down in total control over death defying drops into the valley below. Then I thought maybe that’s the route after all. So I left my pack and decided to solo across the face on little ledges and tussock leads between steep cliffs. Yes, it will go I thought. Once we started it did not seem so bad and after a few false leads we were steadily gaining height climbing up in a northwesterly direction. By now the cloud had come in and we were climbing in mist. My altimeter registered 1400m exactly when we reached a wide col that matched the map so we were confident we were above Lake Liz.

Down we climbed across easy slopes sidling to the left till we ran into high cliffs dropping away below us. All we could see was mist below and no Lake Liz. Where was the route? The only possibility was to camp to await a clearance. Then it started to drizzle so I dived into the tent after dinner. A lone kea visited us and struck up a friendship with Simon. I was happy to leave them to it. That night Simon got up and gently asked if I was awake and told me there was a magnificent view. The cloud had largely gone and a sliver of moon lightened the sky and there below us was mysterious Lake Liz cupped in an amphitheatre and below that a massive drop off into the Transit while all around were sheer cliffs and dark mountains.

I got up at 5.00am before dawn and got a brew on. A rock wren checked us out before leaving. After breakfast we continued down towards Lake Liz 200m below sidling to the left. Our first try failed as we came to a vertical cliff maybe 30m high. The route description suggested we follow the shelf hard left right to the end of the cirque and here we found a deer trail dropping down easy slopes to Lake Liz. It had taken us 1.5 hours. There was an old DOC bivvy at the lake mostly wrecked. In the past there was Kakapo recovery work done here.   

The route description talks about crossing the lake outlet and descending down very steep rock slabs and snowgrass to the scrub in a northerly direction. We picked up a deer trail and followed it sidling very steep snowgrass slopes till able to reach a tongue of scrub. This we followed or more accurately struggled through, just below the scrub line in a northerly direction to a tussock bench further along that took us to a rocky gully.  Here we descended beside the creek with a scrubby spur on our left and a rock face on our right till stopped by a cliff and waterfall. We figured the deer went into the scrubby spur on our left and sure enough we found a deer trail plunging downwards. Below the cliff we crossed to the true right of the creek down easy scrubby/tussock slopes to the beech forest.

By now it was sunny and easy deer trails wound down the forest floor amid open woodland all the way to the tributary of the Transit where we stopped for lunch. What a delightful spot, warm rocks, a clear bubbling stream, no sandflies and a wonderful stillness and harmony. Then we followed the banks down till quite suddenly the land dropped away to a massive waterfall on our left that was unexpected. It took a bit of route finding to find a way down to the Transit below us. Excellent deer trails led down stream onto fairly level country. My mind slipped back into neutral as the kilometres fell behind us. On and on we plod down the endless forest. We saw several deer and lots of sign. Then on a still section of river we thought we’d launch the pack rafts. A bad move as around the corner was an unseen rapid. We hesitated and then bulked. On we plod till after a 13 hour day we decided to camp in the Lower Transit on a sandy bank among the trees. Simon went for a swim and when he was immersed felt something ticking his toe. On look down there was a large black eel... yuch!

We had hoped to reach Anita Bay to rendezvous with Belinda on Saturday night but in retrospect this was extremely ambitious. I got up at 5.00am and we launched the packrafts onto the still waters of the lower Transit. It was another beautiful day with the sun hitting the tops as we paddled along past the dark beech forest. From Google Earth I had seen an open creek bed coming down from a pass at 560m on the mountains behind Anita Bay and joining the Transit near a dogleg where a large swamp started on the south side of the river. Here we pulled out, packed up the boats and started across punga-covered flats to the creek bed. We climbed easily to 150m where a deer trail entered the bush on our true left. This continued upwards onto a spur to 750m just below the summit of peak 811m to the SE of our pass.

There were some large open areas on the spacious top where deer had obviously congregated and once past these we found another trail heading down to the pass. Below this on the north side an open creek bed led easily down to Anita Bay. There were great views of the bay to the north all the way to Madagascar beach and Yates Point. Once we hit the coast we walked along to the ‘Crazy Hut’. I could see Belinda’s kayak on the beach and her tent among the trees but no Belinda. Behind the beach along the trees was a stone hut that I think was built by John Boultbee and his sealing gang in the 19^th century but maybe it was a later addition. Simon went for a swim while I donned extra sandfly protection and man were they bad!

Later in the afternoon Belinda arrived clutching some water containers. It has been an expedition to find some water, somewhat ironic for one of the wettest places on earth. She had an interesting tale to tell of a 10.5 hour day beating into a headwind from Fisherman’s Wharf in Milford Sound to near the heads towing the Gumotex inflatable kayak, which sometimes got blown upside down and being blown backwards in a strong onshore wind, of retreating to Mitre Peak only to beat her way out again to the heads, of landing on a tiny beach opposite Dale Point and spending a noisy night with possums and seals and an early start next day to Anita Bay for a calm paddle at last.

We decided to leave right away. Belinda took my boots and packraft on her afterdeck and Simon and I our packs and his packraft into our now loaded Gumotex. Simon fitted the skeg before we left but it was still a job to run straight. The tide was ebbing out of the fjord and an onshore wind built the further we got past Dale Point. It was quite bouncy and rough so we rafted up and Belinda raised her sail and away we sped. Simon was singing and I was praying, as I was sure we’d sink as the kayak filled with water. On we charged with us gripping B’s racing kayak till a batten broke and we started broaching. I found though if we altered the trim on the rafted kayaks we could correct this. At Sindbad beach we landed to empty out the now waterlogged kayak. Here we met some young guys that had just climbed Mitre Peak and one of them asked if I knew ‘Stanley Mulvany’ once he knew we were from Invercargill. How random is that!

Back at Fisherman’s Wharf we met Abe at Roscoes for a natter and I snuck off for a shower in the toilet block, which felt so good after the drenching in the Gumotex. Then it was a drive to Te Anau where we stayed at Sue’s place while Simon made us a lovely dinner.

Acknowledgments: Once again to Simon Marwick for coming on our 5^th Gumotex expedition, for carrying the heaviest load and leading out the route, for good humour and companionship. To Belinda who kayaked out to meet us against heavy odds and persevered in the face of extreme hardship to rescue us. I know I could not have packrafted in from Anita Bay and would have had to resort to begging a lift in a passing fishing boat. Simon who is made of sterner stuff would have tried to packraft in though.