Day 22 - Mailboat Run through the Marlborough Sounds

05.01.2015

Mashanka and I meet for breakfast and now stay in touch on Facebook. She is taking the bus to Christchurch today and tomorrow with the Tranzalpine (train) over Arthur's Pass to Greymouth. I have also considered doing this from Greymouth. It takes a whole day to go there and back. It's almost 10 o'clock and Rosemary, the strict woman of the B&B, will probably kick out Mashanka herself because she wants to take a shower now. I pack my things and drive my car 300 meters towards the harbor to stay there in the long-term parking until tonight. Unfortunately, there is no parking space available. So I park a few streets further down the road and save myself the parking fee.

Since I will write an article for On Board about the tour today, I first go to the office of the Mailboat Run and talk to the daughter of the operator.

Meanwhile, the mail bags for the individual people are already being prepared. The mail is delivered on three routes, and everyone receives mail, newspapers, or even groceries, tools, bikes, and whatever else is needed twice a week. This service has existed for about 150 years and is now operated by the New Zealand Post. But the boats can accommodate up to 80 people, and at a price of $95, it's certainly not a bad business on the side.

I sit outside in the sun and watch the lively activity, then move to the shade because it's nearly noon and the tour doesn't start until 1:30 pm. The sun is shining from an almost cloudless sky and I think this is the warmest day since I've been on the road.

Jason the barefoot captain and the mail bags

Jason, the head skipper, is a talkative fellow who tells fascinating stories about New Zealand, nature, and the Marlborough Sounds. I sit on the deck, and since the boat is traveling at 20 knots, it's quite stormy. The wind comes from all directions, and the water has small foam caps. We navigate into small bays where more or less well-preserved wooden jetties sometimes seem to lead nowhere, but other times lead to an area with several holiday homes.

The people and houses that are supplied here are either people who have holiday homes here, dropouts, artists, or people who have been living here for a long time. Many green, forested islands are scattered throughout the sounds, which are not actually true fjords but rather the remnants of a folded mountain range that now looks like fjords or archipelagos known from Scandinavia due to rising water levels.

At each stop, the skipper opens his window and first offers a dog biscuit to the dogs - there is hardly anyone here without their dog on the jetty, waiting for the mailboat - and then hands over what needs to go ashore: crates from the supermarket, often held together with some string, then the mailbag, and then there is a short chat, and the island resident hands the skipper their outgoing mailbag, and the boat continues. A final wave, and then there is peace in paradise for 2 days.

Mail for the owner...

The northernmost point of our tour is reached after about 2 hours: Ship Cove. Captain Cook has called here several times, and there is not only a memorial stone but also wonderfully untouched nature. The slopes are wooded with real New Zealand rainforest, which can be recognized by the fact that there are no pine trees growing here, and from a distance, it looks more like broccoli or cauliflower. An excited oystercatcher sits on the shore on two eggs and shouts at us, of course, when we all stand in front of it with cameras.

Some flightless birds are quite fearless here, they are 'wekas' (weka rails) that I have already seen above Russell. And I finally managed to take a photo of one of these incredibly green birds. It is paradise-like here in the bay, where we have a quarter of an hour ¨ashore¨. The water is Caribbean green, the sky is blue, the slopes are lush green - beautiful!

In total, we made about 8 or 10 stops to deliver mail or supplies. At two stops, tourists are also dropped off or picked up. You can spend the day at two places by taking a different boat tour in the morning, getting off, and returning to Picton in the afternoon with the mailboat. Others get off at one point and hike over a mountain to another town. So the mailboat brings the tourists to Point A and the luggage to Point B, where there are holiday homes for them to stay. There is also a super-posh lodge here, with summer prices of NZ$1000 per person per night.

The water gets quite rough temporarily until it becomes calm in the last half hour, and the sun is not as intense anymore. The ship doesn't dock until after 6:00 pm. I walk to my car and drive to the supermarket for a moment, get 5 bottles of water and a bowl of tomatoes for $5, and a yogurt because I think I might eat on the edge of the bed tonight. We'll see. I spontaneously booked a motel in Blenheim online and now drive there for half an hour. The guy from Raymar Motel is very nice, but the room is the worst one he has. The bathroom window is the only one that can be used, but it faces the street. The door of the room is a glass sliding door in a corner of the building, and right in front of the door, for example, the vacuum cleaner is parked in a dirty corner, and one of the two camp kitchens is right next to it. The parking lot is too small for the number of rooms.

So I don't want to eat on the edge of the bed here, and I originally wanted to walk to the city center, but already on the next corner, the neighborhood seems to be not very trustworthy, and since it's already half past 7 and I probably won't be back until around 9:00 pm when the daylight slowly diminishes, I turn around, get the car, and drive a kilometer into town. The prices are unbelievably high again, so I decide on a Chinese restaurant where I can at least get a main course for $19, treat myself to a beer - and that in Blenheim, the wine town of Marlborough. At first, I thought I might have another glass of wine across the street in a bar, but $13 for a 0.15 L glass is not worth it to me. Off to the dive bar, secure the pictures, and lights out. The place smells like air fresheners, the refrigerator emits an intense vanilla scent, so I take my tomatoes out again so they don't absorb it. The bed is hard and has a lump in the middle, and I sleep rather poorly.

Daily distance: 36 km