Showering in Sound

In the thousand words that each postcard picture of Milford Sound paints, there is no mention, not even a hint, of one very simple fact. It rains here 180 days a year - nearly half the year. And that's not just a subtle hint of water sprinkled lightly from the heavens; it's a deluge averaging 5.5m a year. Unsurprisingly, the day we chose to visit happened to be when they were expecting 120mm of freshly squeezed cloud juice. However, hope was not lost, (we were told) the best time to see Milford Sound is when it's raining, as 90% of the waterfalls disappear within 30 minutes of the rain stopping. This was not a timing that we would be able put to the test.

The only way to Milford Sound by road is via Homer Tunnel. Named after Harry Homer (discoverer of the Homer Saddle), it was dug entirely by hand and pick, between 1933 & 1953, and provided much needed relief to a Depression struck local population.

On one of those good days of the year, when you emerge from Homer Tunnel, the world drops away before your eyes into 'Cleddau Canyon', providing a spectacular sight and the sensation of falling into another world. When people first made this journey, they would have been entranced with every metre covered, as the landscape revealed more and more beauty from behind curtains of rock and rainforest. When they completed the descent and reached the shore, they would have seen a near perfect reflection of 'Mitre Peak' in the serene water. It would have seemed like finding a lost world – the only things missing were a bunch of dinosaurs, followed by a fat old Englishmen, a Chaos theorist, two palaeontologists, and some annoying kids.

Driving through the tunnel, you can’t help but notice the rough and unfinished interior surfaces, and thus how natural looking they appear. It’s like some geological phenomena has caused this portal through the mountain to open, or ‘Moses’ had been in New Zealand and was feeling productive. Water flows over the jagged surface and forms small waterfalls at the side of the tunnel adding to the mysterious atmosphere. When we reached the light at the end, the low cloud and thick moisture in the air reflected the light to cause a momentary blinding glare that was replaced by slow revelation of the surroundings. The mountains in front appeared, just as the ones behind were consumed. The rock walls stretched up to disintegrate in the clouds and fall back down as waterfalls.

It was no surprise, when we arrived at the shore, that there was no perfect reflection of 'Mitre Peak' in the water’s surface. We were slightly surprised that we couldn't even see it. What we could see was a dozen different boats docked and ready to be boarded next to a terminal building that was larger than a Greek airport. Not exactly being prepared for this weather, we had to purchase four of the finest cagoules the shop offered before proceeding further. After this, we used the voucher we’d picked up at the Hollyford cabins, and waited for our departure time on the ‘Encounter Nature’ tour. This was a longer, more relaxed option, involving more ‘participation’ and allowing a ‘closer’ look at nature. In retrospect a prolonged trip in the pouring rain that involved going under one waterfall may not have been the best option at that time.

Bathing in nature, I thought back to what Billy Connolly said when travelling around New Zealand – “there is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.” Our clothing was definitely not appropriate, but the scenery here was fantastic. Breathtaking waterfalls brought life to every surrounding. The runoff for the entire country seemed to be cascading down the sides to fill the valley. A waterfall in any setting is worthy of a quick snapshot, but these demanded multiple clickings. The only thing is, it was only a matter of time, before the action of drying our camera lenses became too repetitive so we sought shelter inside, and the warmth of a cup of soup. We still ventured outside for outstanding moments of beauty, sights of sealions, or to get drenched under one waterfall, but the rain was swiftly washing away our enthusiasm for the voyage. It’s the sort of experience that has got better with time, as wet memories are dried up and the beauty of the photos takes over. I’m still keen to return one day and get that perfect picture that we see on so many postcards, but I’m glad we saw it in all it’s wet glory.