Striking it Rich on the West Coast

Striking it Rich on the West Coast

Travel writer Amelia Norman spends four unforgettable days walking on the West Coast of the South Island...

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Striking it Rich on the West Coast

By Amelia Norman

It’s day one of our four day walking tour and I’m already plonked bottom-down in the middle of a river. Not the most auspicious start. But that could be about to change…

Perched (warm and dry, I’ll admit) on a mid-river rock, I’m panning for gold. And I’m heartened by the knowledge that New Zealand’s largest gold nugget was unearthed in this very waterway just 100 years ago.

“You should find a few flakes,” says our walking guide, John Dunbier, hefting great grubby piles of the river bank into our pans. “But you certainly won’t be able to retire tomorrow.”

When it comes to gold, John knows his stuff. A geologist, teacher and now walking guide for adventure company Product Information, John also owns land at nearby Ross: a West Coast settlement built on the 1865 gold rush and reputed to still be sitting on top of a veritable fortune. 

An easy walk along an old miners’ water race behind Ross is the first on our four day adventure, The Franz Josef Trail. One of several trips offered by Christchurch-based Product Information, The Franz Josef Trail takes us down the South Island’s West Coast from Hokitika to Fox Glacier and back, stopping for an array of walks en-route. Comfortable accommodation, scrumptious meals, transport and a friendly guide are all part of the perfectly executed package.

The trail brochure promises ‘Glaciers, Gold Trails & Rainforests’ and after a short drive south from Ross to Harihari, we’re already making good headway on that list. We cruise through landscapes shaped by ancient glaciers: long, low flats scattered with house-sized angular rocks, and towering lateral moraine walls hemming us in on either side. The roads are lined with dense bush, springing punga trees and sprightly ferns in a vivid medley of green, beckoning us towards the Harihari Coastal Walk.     

Starting amidst a rabbit warren of commercial whitebaiting stands (complete with satellite dishes, generators and solar panels: ‘white gold’ is big business round these parts!), we meander the Wanganui River bank through pretty, regenerating podocarp forest. Towering rimu and kahikatea trees arch high above us, dappling the sunny track with their long shadows. Past late rata blooms and flitting fantails, we rock-hop our way around a somnolent lagoon before emerging, quite suddenly, onto a glorious, empty black sand beach. I stop to gape at the flawless scene: a pair of Hector’s dolphins glide through the sparkling surf as it rolls lazily onto the pebble-strewn shore. Bony batons of driftwood form a haphazard border between the sunny gray dunes and the verdant bush that rolls right down to the sand.

“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!” exclaims fellow walker Joy, as we stretch out on flat rocks and sip cups of tea in the soothing afternoon sunshine.

That evening at Franz Josef I decide my legs are tired enough to justify a soak in the local hot pools. Later, dinner at The Alice May restaurant renders me so well fed that I doubt my ability to walk back to our plush motel, let alone tackle tomorrow’s hike!

Lucky for me, next day starts off gently. Our planned route - a circuit from town to the Franz Josef Glacier terminus - is partially closed due to flood damage, so John has rearranged our itinerary to suit the ominous weather forecast. Turns out there’s no need: the moody white tufts of cloud that were tickling the mountain tops on our arrival soon waft away and we enjoy a gentle, sunny walk up the rocky riverbed, past sharp schist cliff faces and ribbon-like waterfalls to the jagged, dirt-streaked ‘snout’ of the mighty Franz Josef Glacier. 

Being one of only three glaciers worldwide located less than 300 metres above sea level, the Franz is easily accessible and thus hugely popular with tourists. As the valley starts to fill with glacier-hiking groups, tour bus parties and camera-wielding couples, we retreat to the quiet of nearby Peter’s Pool.

The now clear blue sky and snow tipped mountains are mirrored perfectly in this small ‘kettle lake’, formed long ago by glacial melt. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!” exclaims Joy, again, genuinely awestruck by the still, lucid beauty of our surroundings.

We appreciate the day’s bright skies even more when we learn that Franz Josef’s annual rainfall is around four metres! But the payoff for all that wet weather is evident on our afternoon tramp through vibrant, lush rainforest. On a high plateau behind the town we venture into a dark, damp oasis of native flora. Here, the bush feels prehistoric: wispy thin moss hangs from gnarling brown branches and fat, knobbly roots twist desperately around thick tree trunks. Tiny black robins hop about in the undergrowth and fat kereru crash and whistle through the tree tops, far above. The cool dark shade of the forest is a balm as we pant our way up and down the thin, winding track, all the way back to our motel.

The steep track is nothing, however, compared to the Okarito Trig walk we take on next morning. Promised by an innocent-looking John that it’s “just a small climb”, Joy and I unwittingly set off up the incline, tackling enormous steps - each one the full height of my legs - and wasting our precious, shortening breath to hurl friendly abuse at our energetic guide, who hasn’t even broken a sweat.    

At the top, rewarding views of Okarito lagoon and the cloudy main divide give us an excuse to rest and a sneak peek of our route ahead to Three Mile Beach. Two hours later we emerge onto the windswept coast where the ocean rushes forth in great foaming surges, crashing onto the pebbly sand. We pick our way past smooth, sparkling quartz stones and enormous angular boulders stacked haphazardly across the landscape.

The afternoon is rounded out with a cup of tea at the jumbled black and blue Fox Glacier terminal face, where we sit and marvel at the diverse natural wonders we’ve encountered in just one day.

At dinner, Joy announces she’s “died and gone to heaven” once again, as we gorge on the divine menu at Matheson Café. My mouth stuffed full with tender Warehou fillet, I nod in fervent agreement. The meal, served up with sunset-tinged mountain views, is an exceptional end to an unforgettable day.

The food’s so good, in fact, that we’re back for breakfast. But not before a warming wander around nearby Lake Matheson - famed for its flawless reflections of the Southern Alps. Despite our early start, the sun refuses to appear but the lack of mirror images in the lake is made up for by the eerie morning mist that wisps across the water, and the rich earthy scent wafting refreshingly from the dampened forest.

Back in the van, Christchurch-bound, I reflect on the grand glaciers, bountiful native bush and isolated beaches we’ve explored on our trip. I never did find any gold in my pan back at Ross, but as we wave goodbye to the West Coast, I have the distinct feeling that I’m leaving far richer than I arrived. 

Amelia experienced the Franz Josef Trail courtesy of Tuatara Tours and  Four Corners

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