Silence Sound of
Stephanie Holmes revels in the peace and quiet — if only for a moment — in Fiordland’s Doubtful Sound
“How do you feel right now?” my friend asks, as she pulls up alongside me in her sunshine-yellow kayak. For once, words fail me. I’m dwarfed by Fiordland’s imposing peaks; the inky water’s surface is mirror calm, reflecting the 50 shades of green native bush creeping down the rock face to meet it.
The only people around are our group of 20 or so kayakers, the yellow vessels and our clothes giving the only pop of introduced colour against the background of Fiordland’s natural palette.
Across the water, our boat, the Fiordland Navigator is cruising elegantly to its anchor point, where onboard waiting for us are toasty private cabins, a comfortable lounge, and an abundance of good food and drink to keep us satiated.
“I feel small,” I say. “And that all the silly little stuff in life doesn’t really matter.” It’s a completely insufficient answer but, awestruck by nature, it’s the best I can do.
“How do you feel?” I ask her in return. “Totally alive,” she says, before we paddle on in reverent silence.
Our kayaking exploration of Precipice Cove on the Bradshaw Arm of Patea Doubtful Sound comes as we reach the close of a long but truly invigorating day.
I wake early in Te Anau to crisp blue skies, and stretch my legs with a gentle walk along the lake edge, soundtracked only by tu¯ ı¯ in the ko¯whai trees. Te Anau is slowly showing signs of recovery — tourist buses are revving their engines and, after a couple of years catering only to Kiwis, there’s once again a diversity of accents overheard in cafes and restaurants. The town is a long way off from “normal” but vital signs are good.
After a satisfying breakfast at the Sandfly Cafe, where yes, you can have oat milk in your flat white and your slice to go can be raw and vegan,
we drive 30 minutes to Pearl Harbour at Lake Manapouri and the Real NZ base. We sit in the welcome sunshine while we wait to embark the first boat of our journey, a small ferry that will take us across Manapouri to Wilmot Pass. From there, we’ll drive by coach a further 45 minutes to Deep Cove, our entry point to Doubtful Sound for our overnight cruise.
It’s a journey made possible by a pioneering yet humble Kiwi couple whose passion for conservation and love for Fiordland helped shape the region into the popular yet pristine tourist destination it is today. Les and Olive Hutchins bought the Manapouri-doubtful Sound Tourist Company in 1954, wanting to share their beloved Fiordland with visitors from around the world. They began taking small groups on multi-day trips into Doubtful Sound by boat and on foot and as years went on, the company grew and expanded across Southern New Zealand. Renamed Real Journeys and then, more recently, Real NZ, its mission remains the same as back in the Hutchins’ early days — to protect this beautiful “backyard” so it can be shared with visitors now and for generations to come.
The Hutchins were also instrumental in the Save Manapouri campaign in the early 70s. Together with other conservation-focused locals, they campaigned to stop Manapouri and Te Anau lake levels being raised as part of the construction of the Manapouri Power Project. They knew the change would have drastically impacted the landscape and wildlife in the region.
Les was named one of the founding guardians of the Lakes in 1973, spent more than a decade on the NZ Conservation Authority, and was a founding patron of the New Zealand National Parks and Conservation Foundation. He was awarded an OBE in the late 90s, and in 2002 was given the non-titular equivalent of a knighthood for services to conservation and tourism. Les and Olive also bought and restored the TSS Earnslaw, saving it from the scrap heap and securing its future as a key tourist attraction for Queenstown.
Les died 20 years ago this month, leaving the company to Olive and their son, Bryan, and despite its massive expansion, Real NZ is still a family affair — grandson Ryan Hodges works as skipper and launch master on the Earnslaw.
But it’s not just family members keeping the dream of conservation and promotion of Fiordland alive. On board the Navigator, the young crew all passionately advocate for the area we are visiting.
Our nature guide, Divyesh — formerly a successful entrepreneur in his home city of Mumbai — is a walking advert for how nature has the power to change you. His life was formerly all about the hustle, and even on holidays, he was never able to switch off and relax from the stresses of running his own business. Friends talked him into joining them on a 20-day trek to Everest base camp and, away from email, away from phone reception, he finally found time to breathe.
He thought about what he wanted to do, what his life change could be. He knew that travel and meeting new people were at the heart of what he wanted for his life. After a lot of soul-searching, Divyesh eventually moved to Queenstown to study adventure tourism and has never looked back. He’s now worked with Real NZ for three seasons and says he enjoys meeting people from all over the world. “Everyone I meet is happy because they’re on holiday,” he says. “That makes me happy.”
His knowledge of Fiordland is exceptional — he gives engaging commentary as we cruise the sounds, pointing out natural wonders and the interesting wildlife we encounter, including New Zealand fur seals and a group of NZ’S rarest penguins — hopping around on the
rocks.
Although our trip is just 24 hours, there are too many memorable moments to count. One of my favourites comes after our kayaking session. As we haul ourselves back on board, the crew prepare the aft deck for a “polar plunge” — the chance for the brave to dive into the chilly waters below. There’s a surprisingly large queue of passengers waiting to jump. I hesitate at first, then close my eyes and leap. The cold is shocking as I sink deep into the dark water. But as I rise to the surface, I can’t help but grin. I feel so good, in fact, that as soon as I get back on deck I immediately queue up for a second go . . . and then a third.
If it wasn’t for my skin turning red and prickly from the cold, I probably would have stayed there all night, I’m feeling so alive. But instead, I drip back to my cabin for a welcome hot shower before cocktails, an expansive buffet dinner and decadent desserts. All the wholesome fresh air and activity means I’m tucked up in bed by 9pm, snuggled into my comfortable single bed for a solid night’s sleep, surrounded by the ultimate peace a night in the Sounds provides.
But the most magical moment of all comes on our final morning. We’re cruising back to Deep Cove where our journey will end but we make a detour to Hall Arm, often described as one of the most beautiful parts of Doubtful Sound — although how you can pick just one is beyond me. Clouds hang low around the peaks and waterfalls thunder down the rocks. But the glassy surface is so still it looks almost solid, with crystal-clear reflections of the mountains, clouds and sky. Look long enough and it’s like an optical illusion; like Alice through the looking glass — which way is up, which way is down? Are we in the real world or the reflection?
As we reach the end of Hall Arm, Skipper Blake turns off the engines and the generators, and we glide across the surface, coming to a gentle stop for our Sounds of Silence moment. Divyesh has asked us to stop talking, stop taking photos, stop moving around the deck and we all stand apart, yet together in stillness. All I can hear is nature —
birds, wind, rain, waterfalls — and it makes me unexpectedly emotional.
The engines come back on and Blake expertly turns the boat around to head back to shore. We travel back to Manapouri, back to Te Anau, and onward to our next stop in Queenstown. The relentless pace of our busy lives carries on, but that moment of peace will stay with me a lifetime.