After long delays due to money changing and grocery shopping, we finally started the two hour drive to Milford Sound in the late afternoon. Hiking and boating used to be the only ways to get there. In fact, that's how had we planned to get there -- hiking the Milford Track, said by some to be the most beautiful hike in the world. We were going to stay in upscale lodges with meals prepared for us. All we would have had to carry would have been our day packs with lunch and rain gear. This sounded much more appealing than backpacking and staying in leaky, cold dormitories. But my knee surgery forced me to admit that a five day hike over mountains and glaciers was not what I should be doing this year, so I had to cancel, losing my deposit. The road to Milford Sound was started in 1929 as an unemployment relief program. Workers used shovels and wheelbarrows. The 1.2 km Homer Tunnel was started in 1935. Worked continued on the tunnel until 1948, then stopped until 1952. The road finally opened in 1953. It slopes downhill in a 1 in 10 gradient. Traffic lights stop cars in one direction for 15 minutes at a time, so they can go through the narrow tunnel in one direction from 9 AM to 6 PM. The rest of the time, traffic is two ways. We’re glad we got through just before 6.
While waiting for our turn to go through the tunnel, we were entertained by very tame Keas that land on car roofs as soon as a door is opened. They attempt to tear out the door gaskets, and are very agile about escaping slamming car doors. They also pose for photos. I didn't see anyone feeding them, although they must score often enough to make panhandling a viable occupation for them.
South of the tunnel, the road to Milford Sound follows the a wide river bed of the MacKay River, filled with white, pink, lavender and purple lupins. Behind them were snow capped peaks. We were in a hurry to get to Milford Sound, and although we both wanted pictures, neither of us said anything about stopping until about 15 minutes later. We hoped we would come back by them in the daylight, and we did. We went to three locations and I took dozens of photos trying to get the exposure right. Here are the best ones. We will need to try again someday, and get there when the sun is higher.
A tour bus guide told us the lupins are an introduced species, and like so many of the exotic plants and animals, have run amok. We don’t know whether that is considered a problem. Another introduced plant that dominates the landscape on both islands is the gorse bush, a yellow flowering bush that can get to be six feet tall or more. It provides welcome visual relief from the endless sheep, sheep, sheep, but it crowds out native plants that are more useful to the native animals. In some places, people apply poison to the gorse, but we read about a gentleman who loved the land and encouraged people to plant saplings of native trees among the gorse. The gorse shaded the young trees until they were big enough to survive on their own, at which point they shaded the gorse and killed it. A wise man, that. Accomodations at Milford Sound are limited. Mitre Peak Lodge is where trekkers on the Milford Track stay after finishing their hike at Milford Sound. If there are any empty rooms, as there were when we were there, non-hikers can stay for NZ$200 for a queen room with breakfast and a view of the sound. A twin room on the back of the hotel is NZ$150. Non-hikers can not make reservations. Rooms are only made available to the public on the day of guest's visit. November 27 we stayed at Milford Sound Lodge (NZ$245), or more accurately at one of the chalets by the river. Our chalet is a pre-fab building sheathed in corrugated metal and wood siding. The approach is not impressive, being dominated by the water heater and gas tank. Inside: wow. What a luxurious interior. King size bed, sofa, dining table, kitchen, deep tub, heated floors, towel warming bars. One whole wall of the chalet is a window opening to a deck facing the clear turquoise water of Cleddau River, rushing by only 10 metres away. Across the river is a rock cliff. Steve said it was better than the Ahwanee at Yosemite.
A sound is a river basin, but Milford "Sound" is actually a fiord, scoured out by glaciers.
We walked down to the fiord to see what we could see. The tide was out and we walked out onto a muddy, reedy peninsula to take some pictures of a water fall. The guide books recommend we pray for rain on our visit to Milford Sound so we can see the spectacular and numerous waterfalls, but we were quite satisfied with the fine weather and the one water fall we could see from shore. I think it was Bowen Falls, the largest of the 1,000 falls in the fiord, and the source of the water and power for the buildings at the head of the fiord. This would have been day four of five if we had hiked the Milford Track as planned. I think we would have avoided the rain that can make the trek unpleasant, with hard-won views obscured by clouds. The Blue Duck Restaurant is the only place to eat at Milford Sound, and it didn't sound good, so our Thanksgiving dinner was to have been omelets with salmon, but we were too tired to make that, so we heated some vegetable bean soup. We enjoyed the first decent bread we found in this country, Dovedale Grain Chia. We also had
tasty cheese, the Kiwi name for cheddar, tomatoes, red capsicums and Speights Old Dark beer. We could hear and watch the river through our open door and the view made us feel elite. The next morning we saw where the budget travelers stay. The rustic dorms have small dark rooms with only beds. Guests follow covered porches to the bathrooms, kitchen and the unpleasant common area. The doubles were NZ$80 and all were reserved.
We drove to the dock at the head of the fiord and boarded the Milford Mariner with about 30 other people for our cruise. The peninsula where we had stood the night before was under water. The fiord is a fascinating ecosystem. Eight metres of rain fall annually. Forty metres of fresh water is on top of the salt water from the ocean. Four hundred metres below the salt water is a region too dark to support life. The boat idled 10 metres away from a cliff rising 700 metres above the water. The captain said there were 250 metres of water below us.
Fur seals were hunted almost to extinction in the 1880s, but we some some lounging on the rocks. We also saw Fiordland Crested Penguins, some of the rarest sea birds in the world.
They seem to be interested in the boat, and obligingly hop from rock to rock.
Stirling Falls is the one reliable waterfall in Milford Sound, even on a sunny day such as we enjoyed. The captain pulled close so we could find out why the fall is known as the Boat Washer. Trees cling to the walls of the fiord, growing almost parallel to them. Only 25% of the trees are actually rooted in soil or rock crevasses. The rest are rooted to each other. When the tree mass becomes too heavy to support itself, a tree avalanche is the result.
Steve has frequently remarked on the similarities between New Zealand and his beloved California. In Fiordland, he keeps exclaiming "Look at the relief!", geologist-speak for breathtakingly high steep slopes. He is at a loss to name a mountain range on the Left Coast that can match what we see here. Over the past few days I have heard what I thought were gunshots, which seems strange in a national forest. I finally figured out the sounds are from rock falls.
While waiting for our turn to go through the tunnel, we were entertained by very tame Keas that land on car roofs as soon as a door is opened. They attempt to tear out the door gaskets, and are very agile about escaping slamming car doors. They also pose for photos. I didn't see anyone feeding them, although they must score often enough to make panhandling a viable occupation for them. 
South of the tunnel, the road to Milford Sound follows the a wide river bed of the MacKay River, filled with white, pink, lavender and purple lupins. Behind them were snow capped peaks. We were in a hurry to get to Milford Sound, and although we both wanted pictures, neither of us said anything about stopping until about 15 minutes later. We hoped we would come back by them in the daylight, and we did. We went to three locations and I took dozens of photos trying to get the exposure right. Here are the best ones. We will need to try again someday, and get there when the sun is higher. 
A tour bus guide told us the lupins are an introduced species, and like so many of the exotic plants and animals, have run amok. We don’t know whether that is considered a problem. Another introduced plant that dominates the landscape on both islands is the gorse bush, a yellow flowering bush that can get to be six feet tall or more. It provides welcome visual relief from the endless sheep, sheep, sheep, but it crowds out native plants that are more useful to the native animals. In some places, people apply poison to the gorse, but we read about a gentleman who loved the land and encouraged people to plant saplings of native trees among the gorse. The gorse shaded the young trees until they were big enough to survive on their own, at which point they shaded the gorse and killed it. A wise man, that. Accomodations at Milford Sound are limited. Mitre Peak Lodge is where trekkers on the Milford Track stay after finishing their hike at Milford Sound. If there are any empty rooms, as there were when we were there, non-hikers can stay for NZ$200 for a queen room with breakfast and a view of the sound. A twin room on the back of the hotel is NZ$150. Non-hikers can not make reservations. Rooms are only made available to the public on the day of guest's visit. November 27 we stayed at Milford Sound Lodge (NZ$245), or more accurately at one of the chalets by the river. Our chalet is a pre-fab building sheathed in corrugated metal and wood siding. The approach is not impressive, being dominated by the water heater and gas tank. Inside: wow. What a luxurious interior. King size bed, sofa, dining table, kitchen, deep tub, heated floors, towel warming bars. One whole wall of the chalet is a window opening to a deck facing the clear turquoise water of Cleddau River, rushing by only 10 metres away. Across the river is a rock cliff. Steve said it was better than the Ahwanee at Yosemite. 
A sound is a river basin, but Milford "Sound" is actually a fiord, scoured out by glaciers. 
We walked down to the fiord to see what we could see. The tide was out and we walked out onto a muddy, reedy peninsula to take some pictures of a water fall. The guide books recommend we pray for rain on our visit to Milford Sound so we can see the spectacular and numerous waterfalls, but we were quite satisfied with the fine weather and the one water fall we could see from shore. I think it was Bowen Falls, the largest of the 1,000 falls in the fiord, and the source of the water and power for the buildings at the head of the fiord. This would have been day four of five if we had hiked the Milford Track as planned. I think we would have avoided the rain that can make the trek unpleasant, with hard-won views obscured by clouds. The Blue Duck Restaurant is the only place to eat at Milford Sound, and it didn't sound good, so our Thanksgiving dinner was to have been omelets with salmon, but we were too tired to make that, so we heated some vegetable bean soup. We enjoyed the first decent bread we found in this country, Dovedale Grain Chia. We also had tasty cheese, the Kiwi name for cheddar, tomatoes, red capsicums and Speights Old Dark beer. We could hear and watch the river through our open door and the view made us feel elite. The next morning we saw where the budget travelers stay. The rustic dorms have small dark rooms with only beds. Guests follow covered porches to the bathrooms, kitchen and the unpleasant common area. The doubles were NZ$80 and all were reserved. 
We drove to the dock at the head of the fiord and boarded the Milford Mariner with about 30 other people for our cruise. The peninsula where we had stood the night before was under water. The fiord is a fascinating ecosystem. Eight metres of rain fall annually. Forty metres of fresh water is on top of the salt water from the ocean. Four hundred metres below the salt water is a region too dark to support life. The boat idled 10 metres away from a cliff rising 700 metres above the water. The captain said there were 250 metres of water below us. 
Fur seals were hunted almost to extinction in the 1880s, but we some some lounging on the rocks. We also saw Fiordland Crested Penguins, some of the rarest sea birds in the world. They seem to be interested in the boat, and obligingly hop from rock to rock. 
Stirling Falls is the one reliable waterfall in Milford Sound, even on a sunny day such as we enjoyed. The captain pulled close so we could find out why the fall is known as the Boat Washer. Trees cling to the walls of the fiord, growing almost parallel to them. Only 25% of the trees are actually rooted in soil or rock crevasses. The rest are rooted to each other. When the tree mass becomes too heavy to support itself, a tree avalanche is the result. 
Steve has frequently remarked on the similarities between New Zealand and his beloved California. In Fiordland, he keeps exclaiming "Look at the relief!", geologist-speak for breathtakingly high steep slopes. He is at a loss to name a mountain range on the Left Coast that can match what we see here. Over the past few days I have heard what I thought were gunshots, which seems strange in a national forest. I finally figured out the sounds are from rock falls.